


After Party

by bruisespristine



Series: Taylor Swift Verse (College AU, no actual TSwift) [6]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Origin Story, BDSM, College AU, F/F, Sub!Shaw, read the other stories first I promise you don't wanna start here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bruisespristine/pseuds/bruisespristine
Summary: Post Hate the Game collection of oneshots, warnings and summaries by chapter where applicable, sex marked with horizontal rules and skippable (always).





	1. Domesticity

**Author's Note:**

> content warning: smut between the lines, a little wooden spoon paddling action, fairly low key, a small squirting

“Hey, gorgeous, come here often?”

Shaw halts with the apartment building door midway open and turns enough that Root can see her roll her eyes before she responds. “Yes, I live here, with my irritating and ridiculous you.”

Root grins, admiring Shaw’s ‘sweaty-just-out-of-the-gym’ look, “you like me.”  
  
“Urgh.” Shaw shoves the door open with more force than strictly necessary. “God knows why.”  
  
“Because I bought mocha chip?” Root holds up her grocery bags, but not for very long, because they’re heavy.

Shaw huffs and takes one of the two reusable bags out of Root’s hand, somehow picking the heavier one. “That helps.”

Root stretches her hand out in gratitude and follows Shaw into the building, pressing the elevator button with her now free hand. “How was sporting?”

Shaw is doing too many random workout classes right now for Root to keep track. Even though she has access to Shaw’s google calendar for practical purposes, Shaw tends to just write stuff like ‘3:30-5:30 sweat @ Crowley’ instead of specifying.

“Good,” Shaw replies, “it was crossfit.”

“Crossfit looks like torture,” Root smirks as they get into the elevator and she pushes the button for their floor, “but you look _great_ being tortured, so it works _._ ” Shaw currently looks great. Her hair is back in a tight braid, but many strands have escaped and are wildly disarrayed around her face. She’s all pink still, implying she was at the building gym, and there are clearly visible sweat marks on her gray sports bra. She’s the most ripped she's been since Root started seeing her, which is saying a lot, and she's currently only wearing said bra, little cotton shorts, and runners. It’s borderline indecent and Root approves.

“Mmm.” Shaw sounds annoyed, but looks a bit pleased, so that’s a win by Root. To celebrate, Root slides her hand around Shaw’s hip, onto her bare tummy, rubbing her thumb gently across the soft curve of muscle next to Shaw’s belly button.

Shaw shivers slightly, and Root peeks over her shoulder to see that yes, her nipples have hardened satisfactorily. The elevator pings, and the door slides open, frustrating Root’s next plan to slip her hand down Shaw’s shorts real quick. Her fingertips are just under the waistband, but nothing actually inappropriate.

“Uh, excuse me.” The mumbled interruption reminds Root that she should probably let go of Shaw and let her get off the elevator, so she does so, giving Shaw a grin when she shoots Root a flat-eyed, almost glare that would have sent her running for the hills back before she learned the differences between all of Shaw’s many annoyed faces. This one isn’t really annoyed, but is one of Shaw’s defensive faces, saved for when she’d rather she wasn’t turned on, is kind of enjoying it anyway, and wishes she wasn’t, but feeling naughty is actually making it _better_.

“Sorry,” Root grins at Dani as they exit the elevator.

“No problem,” Dani nods at them, keeping a straight face, but Root doesn’t bother to repress her smirk at the way Dani’s eyes keep dropping to Shaw’s not inconsiderable assets. “Good work out?”

Root is _very_ impressed with herself for biting her tongue on the immediate urge to say ‘not as good as the one she’s about to get,’ as Shaw answers.

“It was alright. Need to up my cardio.”

“Well, if you ever need a running partner,” Dani grins lopsidedly at them both and gives an awkward little wave, “see ya.” The doors close, and Root snorts.

“Her mouth says ‘running partner’... her eyes say ‘banging partner’. You keep torturing the poor kid with your naked bits.”

“Hardly my fault, and you were the one who made them more interesting,” Shaw waves at her nipples which are still clearly visible through her sports bra.

“That wasn’t my intention,” Root demurs, rummaging in her bag for her keys and opening the apartment.

Shaw pads in in front of her and dumps the bag on the kitchen counter, heading straight for the shower. “And yet...”

Root snickers to herself as she clicks the lights around the window on, letting a bit of warmth into the dusky light permeating the apartment through the lacy privacy blinds she bought after she realised how often they fuck in the kitchen.

With the sound of the shower to accompany her, Root puts away the groceries she’s just purchased, lamenting the fact that she has an actual Meat Drawer in her freezer now. A drawer _just for meat_. Shaw has steaks, burgers of three different kinds, an entire pork roast, and several racks of ribs stuffed into the space. There’s also bacon in the next drawer down, along with fullfat icecream and various other delicious things that are horribly bad for you.

Root snorts as she puts the whole milk, cream, half and half _and_ 2.9% yogurt into the fridge. She’s never had a full fridge before in her life. In the past it was more usual for her to live on takeaway and be constantly surprised by things going mouldy.

She’s put on weight since she started dating Shaw, there’s no doubt about that, but she actually looks good. Left to her own devices she’s prone to forgetting to eat, sometimes for full days. But with Shaw clattering about and demanding to be fed, Root’s started keeping regular meal times, and it shows. She has a little bit of muscle, where there didn’t used to be any, a soft curve under her belly button, small, but definitely there, and her boobs have also grown a bit. She’s up a pant size as well, and Shaw appears to be enjoying the increased squeezability.

Attila pads out of the bedroom, yawning, and Root puts the last bottle of beer in the fridge before squatting down to scruff her. She took her for a long walk before heading to the store—Attila not being quite obedient enough yet for Root to want to take her across busy roads when she has her hands full of bags—so she doesn’t need to go outside right away, but she bundles into Root’s body with excited little yips.

Of course, the attention evaporates when Shaw opens the bathroom door, and Attila bounds over to  greet her, dancing up on her hindlegs which Shaw encourages shamelessly. Root watches, amused, as her two girls show each other how much they love each other, and Shaw grins at Root as she catches her eyes.

“It was your idea to _get_ a dog.” She points out airly, heading for the bedroom with Attila right behind her.

“Well, I should have got one that likes me better,” Root snickers, without heat. “Whaddya want for dinner, lasagna or pork chops?”

“No dog is ever gonna like you better, Root, face it, dogs love me. I am one with the dogs. Lasagna sounds amazing. Did you get garlic bread?”

“Naw, I figured you wouldn’t want any,” Root teases.

There are three garlic bread loaves in the freezer, because it’s an excellent quick snack to feed to hungry Shaw, especially if it’s smothered in cheese. It’s the offseason right now, but Shaw’s still training three days a week, and she works out on the off days as well. If anything she eats more now that Root’s ever seen her.

The days she teaches at the martial arts centre on top of morning soccer are the days she’s both the hungriest, and the horniest, which interests Root. She’s unintentionally keeping a mental calendar of when Shaw is most likely to initiate sex and it’s on the days when she’s most active.

Root, being the sort of person who thinks being forced to run for the bus is a crime against her personhood, thinks the way Shaw’s body works is intriguing.

She grabs the glass tray for the lasagna and dumps some water into a pot, setting it to boil while she gets out ground beef and chucks it in a pan. Chopping onion always makes her cry, so she starts with the carrots and leaves the onion on the other board for Shaw, who joins her after a few minutes, clad in soft sweats and a ragged Ramones shirt.

Shaw starts dicing the onion without needing instruction, and Root tries not to do a massive soppy grin, just a small one.

They cook in companionable silence, dancing around each other and bumping into each other accidentally on purpose, until everything’s done. Root pops the creamy looking lasagna into the oven and then turns to urge Shaw up onto the counter. Shaw had a late night last night, and an early morning today, and it’s been far too long since Root got to touch her skin.

* * *

 

She pulls at Shaw’s shirt hem until Shaw gets the hint and yanks it off over her head. Grabbing her phone with one hand, she curls the other one around Shaw’s neck, tugging her in until her mouth is against Root’s throat. She shivers as Shaw bites down gently.

Setting a timer for the food only takes a moment, and then she can concentrate on Shaw. “Can’t wait til Nova’s online and I can just get Them to set a timer for me,” she snickers into Shaw’s mouth as she tugs her up for a kiss, and Shaw pulls back to raise an eyebrow.

“I’m pretty sure this AI is supposed to be saving the world, not timing our dinner.”

Root gives her a grin she’s sure would be described as wicked, “yeah, but who’s gonna know?”

“The government?” Shaw inquires, arching her back, “but AI semantics later, boning me now.”

Root pinches her nipples in answer, making Shaw groan under her breath and tip her head back, exposing her throat.

Root, of course, takes advantage of said throat and leans in to pepper it with kisses and soft bites while cupping Shaw’s breasts in her hands. They have to be much more careful with marks, now, only leaving them behind on the very upper heights of Shaw’s inner thighs, since she doesn’t want to explain her proclivities to her new teammates without a bit of get to know you time, first.

But that just means Root has to get creative.

She licks up Shaw’s adam’s apple, feeling the vibration of her moan in the curving ridges of cartilage, slides her hand into Shaw’s hair and pulls.

Then Attila—although it takes Root a moment to realise what it is—jumps up and plants her paws on the back of Root’s thighs—she’s not that tall yet.

“Shit,” Root mumbles, reluctantly unpeeling from Shaw, “us in the bedroom or the dog?”

“The dog, I wanna get fucked on the counter,” Shaw grumbles, frowning at Attila. “Some people have _kids_ , how do they ever get laid?”

“No idea,” Root steps away, pats her thigh, “c’mon, honey, bedroom.” Attila yelps in happiness at the chance to be on their bed, and bolts for the corridor.

“We gotta get a bigger house, with a fucking garden,” Shaw slides off the counter and kicks her shorts off, and Root follows the dog, grinning at Shaw’s use of ‘us’ and ‘house’ like future plans are a thing they can have now. She uses the bedroom visit as an opportunity to strip off.

After shutting a sad puppy in the bedroom—it’ll only be for like twenty minutes, honestly, they’re really good about not abandoning her for long periods of time, Root works from home four days a week—Root rejoins Shaw in the kitchen.

Shaw’s started without her, it seems, has a hand between her legs already. She shoots Root a mischievous look between half closed eyes, and then lifts her other hand to show she’s holding a wooden spoon. “Remember how you couldn’t bruise my ass with this even when we were really trying?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” Root states gleefully, snagging it out of Shaw’s unresisting hands. “Down, turn, hips against the counter.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Shaw responds immediately, sliding off the granite topped surface—yes, they’ll spray it when they’re done, they’re not animals—and turning around, hissing as the cold stone presses up against her skin.

Root pushes up behind her, forces Shaw’s upper body down flat, until her face is pressed against the hard surface and her breasts are squished pleasantly out to the sides for Root to trail her fingers over the curves, and then she steps back to make space to swing.

The spoon isn’t too loud, and neither is Shaw as it hits, she tenses delightfully and hisses out her breath, but doesn’t yelp or shift, stays exactly where Root’s put her. Root rubs her pink little butt cheek in reward after she gets to ten before switching sides.

They’re not going hard, it’s just a bit of light fun, and Root puts the spoon aside after they get to fifty, muscling in close and worming her hand around Shaw’s front, pulling her away from the counter.

Her skin is heated and soft against Root’s hand as she slides it down Shaw’s stomach, tugs on her pubes and dips lower, swirling through wetness with a pleased hum.

“Oh,” Shaw pants quietly, pressing her forehead against the counter, “please.”

She’s not really begging, not in the way she does when she’s a strung out mess, but it still lights a hot fire in Root’s stomach, makes her growl and curl her hips against the curve of Shaw’s ass.

Under her fingers, Shaw’s clit is hard and swollen, and Root makes an approving noise as she pinches it gently, then a little harder, then a little harder still until Shaw whines out her nose and taps the surface by her face twice.

Root presses her grin into Shaw’s shoulderblade, biting gently, not enough to leave anything but a swiftly fading ring of pink on Shaw’s brown skin.

Shaw grunts and lifts her hips, Root grinds against her shamelessly, slides her free hand over Shaw’s thigh and pushes her thumb inside her. She uses her reach-around hand to pull up on Shaw’s pubic mound, expose her clit more fully, and presses her fingers against it with her other hand. She slides her thumb out, slowly, dragging her fingers over Shaw’s clit, and then pushes back in, making a rocking motion with her hand that stimulates everything she can reach.

The feel of Shaw’s strong little body, wiggling underneath her, makes Root want to sink her teeth in pretty badly, but she has to control herself. She redirects that energy into her grinding, pushing hips, knowing Shaw’s hipbones will bruise from the impact. Her brown skin hides that kind of build up bruising well, though, and it won’t be noticeable. But Shaw will inhale deeply when Root presses her fingers against the invisible contusions over the next few days.

The thought sends a pleasant little shiver through her. Angling her wrist a little, she licks up the side of Shaw’s neck, lips at her ear and grins when Shaw whimpers and tilts her head for Root’s access.

“You feel so fucking good under me, Sameen, shit,” Root groans as her clit makes especially satisfying contact with the tense curve of Shaw’s excellent ass, god, Root loves Shaw’s ass.

“Yeah,” Shaw pants into her own forearm, “fuck, so good.”

Root nips at Shaw’s earlobe, crooks her thumb hard against Shaw’s gspot and speeds up her thrusts, until Shaw stiffens and moans and clenches down on her thumb, a rush of liquid easing the dragging motion Root’s created.

“Mmm did you just squirt a little bit?” Root inquires, breathlessly,  and Shaw makes an inconclusive and incoherent little noise.

Root pulls out slowly, trails her fingers over Shaw’s soft, soaked pussy with a hum of pleasure. “You totally did, nice one.

“Thanks?” Shaw grumbles breathlessly, “It’s not like I had a lot of control over the situation.”

“Nice one me, then.” Root chortles, manhandling Shaw away from the counter so she can hop up on it, leaning back on her hands and opening her knees, “you’ve got..." she glances at her phone, "seven minutes, make the most of them.”

Shaw just rolls her eyes before planting her hands on Root’s thighs, still breathing a little hastily, and leaning down to press her mouth against Root.

Root closes her eyes and sinks into the feeling of Shaw’s hot, breathless mouth exploring her purposefully, sucking and licking and rubbing against everything and everywhere, until Root lets out a little throaty sound that means ‘stop teasing’ and Shaw obediently sucks Root’s clit gently into her mouth, laves her tongue over it in slow, hot circles, and holds Root’s hips against the counter as she comes.

Shaw kisses her through it, slow, open mouthed kisses against her clit that make Root twitch and moan, almost losing her balance and sliding off the edge of the counter. Shaw steadies her, and straightens up, smeared come glinting on her lips and chin, and a smug look on her pink little face.

* * *

 

Root crinkles her nose and uses her palm to wipe Shaw’s face off, which Shaw puts up with with only a mildly aggrieved sigh. When Root’s steady enough to jump down, she thwaps Shaw on the butt before heading to the kitchen sink to wash her hands. “Take the pups down and I’ll dish up?

“Sure,” Shaw yawns widely, not bothering to cover her mouth, before padding off down the corridor to the bedroom to grab the puppy and also, hopefully, rinse off before pulling on clothes.

The lasagna is bubbling nicely and browned on top, so Root pulls it out to rest on the oven top while the garlic bread toasts and she makes a quick salad, because god knows she can’t eat a full meal of meat and pasta with like two vegetables in it.

By the time she’s set the table, Shaw’s back, puppy bounding along in her wake. They really do need to think about a bigger place. Attila is only five months old right now, but she’s gonna grow to about 60-70 pounds and she’s already pretty active. Fortunately Shaw is happy about taking her for runs, since Root definitely couldn’t keep up in that department. She does alright with a ball thrower and good long walks, though.

They settle down at the counter, some quiet music on in the background, and Attila sits with her head pressed against Shaw’s knee, as is her current favourite cozy position for while they’re eating.

After dinner, everyone piles onto the bed and they watch a truly terrifying movie—Oculus—which leaves Root taking the puppy to the bathroom with her when she has to pee, after Shaw refuses.

The night is soft, calm, and tomorrow is Sunday. The Team is coming over for brunch, and after that there’s supposed to be a wedding planning session, which Shaw plans to observe from a distance. It feels like a perfect weekend, already.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ps oculus was horrifying 10/10 would recommend if you're a horror person. Don't confuse with The Oculus, which is terrible.


	2. Do You Get A Uniform?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mostly cozy, a little smut in the bath and then the bed, marked with a rule. The bath is vanilla and has a slow start so I've lined it where it goes beyond casual groping. BUT they do keep talking and have a cute discussion about heraldry so if you can muscle through some smut for the cute, I recommend. I put a star in where it stops being character stuff and turns into only porn so you know where to stop if you want to read the convos.
> 
> On the other hand the sex in the bed includes large feeldoes and some choking, with no redeeming character dev ;D

“There’s a lifeguard training course at the Y this week.” Shaw announces over dinner as though Root should in some way be able to track from the previous topic—drag racing, Root can’t remember how they got there either—to the new one.

“That’s... great?” Root hazards, tipping her bowl to get the last of her Thai red curry soup. 

“I’m gonna do it,” Shaw looks at Root in the way she does when Root has failed to understand exactly what Shaw didn’t say.

“Okay...” Root trails off, not totally sure what the context of this declaration is, if Shaw wants her to have an opinion or not.

“It’s good work if I can get it,” Shaw elaborates, propping her elbow on the table, “what do you think?”

“Do you get a cute uniform?” Root grins, putting her spoon down. “I dunno, babe, if you wanna do it, great. How long’s the course?”

“It’s two weeks, 5pm til 9pm Monday to Friday.” Attila whines from her position with her head on Shaw’s lap until Shaw returns to petting her head.

“And today is Sunday,” Root points out. 

“Yea, so I’m gonna be out the next two weeks.” Shaw says it a bit defensively and Root can’t tell if it’s cause she knows she should have mentioned it before, or if she’s worried Root’s gonna be mad. Either way.

“And the uniform?” Root knocks their knees together under the table so Shaw knows she’s not upset.

“It’s just a shirt, I can wear my own pants.” Shaw relaxes a bit, picks up her bowl and drinks the rest of her soup. Root breathes a soft laugh at the sight of Shaw’s face buried in her enormous bowl.

“What colour?” Because that’s important. Root hopes it’s red, Shaw looks great in red and hardly ever wears it.

“Yellow,” Shaw says with disgust clear in her voice, putting her bowl down.

“Oh well,” Root sighs, “could be worse. Could be... beige?”

“Could be purple,” Shaw points out, although Root also thinks Shaw looks great in purple, she does have an irrational dislike of it.

“You should petition for rainbow,” Root snickers, gathering their empty bowls and the small plate they had cilantro on.

“Gaaayyyyy,” Shaw sing-songs, getting to her feet and starting to clear the table.

“Exactly,” Root grins goofily, snagging the cutlery and heading to the sink to rinse it before shoving it in the dishwasher.

Shaw pads after her, hissing under her breath as her bare feet hit the cold kitchen tile. They tidy up in companionable silence and Shaw grabs a beer out of the fridge, cocking her head at Root in question.

“Vino, please,” Root shuts the dishwasher door and sets it, then heads over to the couch and flops down, space at the other end for Shaw. Shaw follows her over and passes her a glass of cold white wine, and then sits down with a sigh of relief, she'd been at the gym all afternoon.  “I might need to take a hot bath,” she grouches, clearly not enthused.

“You love baths,” Root points out, sipping her wine gratefully. 

“Effort, though. And I haven’t seen you for like three days and now I’m busy forever.” Shaw says with an awkward note in her voice.

“So you want me to bang you in the bath, is what you’re saying.” Root grins at her.

“Or just hang out with me.” Shaw grumbles, apparently annoyed by her own wish to spend time with Root. Rather than make her even more uncomfortable, Root just prods her in the thigh with her foot.   


“I wish we had a bigger bath.” Root sighs, in no rush to go and run said bath, they can chill here for a bit first.

“Add a big bath to the wishlist.,” Shaw agrees, stretching and patting the couch so Attila jumps up to clamber dramatically into Shaw’s lap, almost spilling her beer.

“It’s a bit like having Zoe in the house,” Root snickers at the sight of Shaw holding her drink at arm’s length while the puppy settles in a heap on top of her, before curling sideways to cozy them both.

“Zoe only peed on the floor once in the four years we lived together,” Shaw sighs, curling her fingers into Attila’s nape wrinkles, “whereas I still have to clean up this one’s pee at least once a week.”   
  
“Hey, she’s getting better! And she never pees on the carpet.” Root strokes the warm, soft dog body happily. It’s nice to have something pettable in the house, even if Shaw will take more than she used to in the beginning, pun most definitely intended. “Also, please tell me about Zoe peeing on the floor, she did mention peeing on you once during a tickle fight...”

Shaw laughs quietly, shifts her elbow onto a pillow, “different time. Uh, we were pretty drunk, and John somehow managed to miss the chair when he sat down, and he kind of like slid down the edge of it and the chair went shooting backwards, and John fell flat on his ass and then the chair hit the bookshelf and dropped a bunch of National Geos on him. Zoe laughed so much she peed herself. It was pretty fucking funny, though.”

“Oh my God,” Root groan-laughs, “that sounds like a fucking disaster.

“Did I ever tell you about John and mine’s prank war?” Shaw enquires, picking idly at the neck of her beer bottle.

“No, but I would definitely like to hear,” Root says with a grin, tugging Attila more into her lap. The dog wriggles and rolls over, so she’s half in Shaw’s lap and half in Root’s, looking up at them with a doofy dog smile. 

“It started cause, well, you know how John moved Harry in in first year without asking? Well he was so preoccupied by being grossly romo that he stopped obeying the chore wheel, and would cook elaborate romantic dinners for him and Finch to eat, not even letting us have  _ leftovers,  _ and then he wouldn’t do his dishes cause he was too busy making hearteyes and writing poetry. So one day I went to make dinner and he’d done a roast and the whole kitchen was a fucking disaster, and so I took all the dirty dishes and put them in John’s bed for him while he was at boxing.” Shaw snickers, clearly overcome with the memories. “So then the next day he filled my entire room with balloons. I couldn’t even get in. I opened the door and they just started tumbling out. It must have taken him ages, very impressive. It took me like three hours to pop them all.” 

“And then of course you wanted revenge?”

“Fuck yeah I did. I’d been watching the Office, so I set a bunch of John’s stuff in jelly... including his knife collection. It escalated from there.”

“How did it end?” Root is enjoying this story very, very much.

“Well... John made the mistake of involving Joss and Zoe when he removed the entire staircase from the Casa. Apparently it’s not even that hard? But anyway, the girls also couldn’t get upstairs to their rooms as collateral damage. They didn’t think his rope ladder up to Joss’ room was a good enough solution and they decided it had gone too far and made us sign a peace treaty.” 

“Dramatic,” Root snickers, tangling her fingers through Shaw’s briefly, on the dog’s soft belly. 

“I think Zoe had the treaty framed after it was ratified by Bear.” Shaw finishes her beer with a sexy full head tilt and working throat, and Root leans over to press her mouth against it, feeling the movement of Shaw’s swallow. “Perv,” Shaw turns her head for better access, and Root nips at her pulse point for a second before sitting back to finish her wine.

“Bath?” 

Shaw doesn’t answer, just stands up and pulls her shirt off over her head on her way to the bathroom. They’ve had to stop throwing underpants around in case Attila eats them, but tshirts are fine and Root grins, setting her wine glass down and getting up to follow Shaw into the ensuite.

The water’s already running by the time Root gets there, and seeing Shaw squatting down to mix the bubble bath in with her hand is sexy. Root shut the bedroom door open with Attila in the main living area still on her way in. This way they can leave the bathroom one open, which is way more inviting. If both are open then they have learned from experience that the eventual situation is a dog in the bath on top of them, splashing water everywhere and poking them with her pokey toes. 

Grinning at the memory, Root pulls candles down from the top of the medicine cabinet, where they live for convenience’s sake. 

By the time she’s done setting them up, Shaw is in the tub with her legs open for Root to sit in front. It’s not the usual way around they do things, but the warm strength of Shaw holding her is infinitely better than the cold ceramic, so she slips into the silky water without complaint. 

Shaw leans one elbow on the edge of the tub, providing a convenient shoulder dip for Root’s head to rest in, and draws patterns on the water next to Root’s stomach with her other hand. 

Root hums in contentment, enjoying the heat and the closeness. It’s not very often she gets to be pressed up against Shaw without sex being a part of things, but Shaw’s relaxed behind her not squirming or uncomfortable.  

They laze around talking about nothing in particular, idly catching each other up on various developments in their respective lives—Root updates Shaw on the NOVA situation and some other projects she's working on. Shaw thinks if she can pick up six hours a week lifeguarding that her schedule will be suitably full, and apparently has a karate tournament coming up next month that she’s thinking about entering. 

“I’m in good shape, and even though I’m out of practise the instincts are pretty hard-wired. I’m winning two in three at the gym,” she spreads her hand over Root’s hipbone, water lapping ticklishly up onto Root’s tummy making her smile.

“Who’s beating you one in three, let me at ‘em?” Root interjects some dramatic indignation into her tone, making Shaw pinch her lightly. 

“Yu-Chan and Holly are both faster than me, but only in a competition bout sense, I’d crush either of them if it wasn’t regulation.” Shaw sighs, sounding mildly aggrieved. 

“Ah, it was Holly who split your lip for you, wasn’t it?” Root inquires, squirming around awkwardly to add emphasis to her question by sucking on said lip for a second or two. Shaw makes a soft little air escaping sound when Root twists back to face the taps again.

“Yeah, but I was being sloppy. However, karate is proving to be a useful excuse for various times  _ you’ve _ split my lip,” Shaw has a smirk in her voice. “I’ll have to tell everyone I’m doing bondage escape classes to explain away the rope burn.” 

“Or just practise being really, really good,” Root drops her voice to a purr and grins when Shaw’s nipples harden against her shoulderblades, water slicked and sliding easily. 

“I broke those silly jewelry handcuffs you got me in about four seconds,” Shaw sighs, “I like pulling.” 

“Aw, I know. We’ll get you some fancy ones that are tough. I bet someone does custom work somewhere.”

“An armourer,” Shaw snickers, skimming her fingertips across Root’s ribcage delicately.  “Like they used to make the fancy filigree armour.” 

“Display bondage, functional yet attractive,” Root grins, taking Shaw’s hand and guiding it between her legs, inhaling languidly as Shaw huffs approval at the change of scenery, presses a kiss to Root’s warm neck. 

* * *

She teases her fingers lightly across Root’s pussy, under the water, the liquid rippling around her touch and adding another layer of sensation. Root hums happily and spreads her legs, letting her knees knock against the cold ceramic of the tub sides. “You could get your coat of arms embossed on it.” She continues the joking armour discussion while groping Root thoroughly but very very gently.

“Not your own?” Root inquires, her breathing hitching slightly as Shaw brushes the silky skin of her clit hood.

“Ah, good point. Okay my coat of arms with your delicate lady handkerchief tucked inside to show who I ride for.” Shaw bites lightly just under Root’s ear. 

“Who you ride, more like,” Root smirks, inhaling deeply, “your coat of arms would be maroon, with a strip for valour, antlers for strength and fortitude, an arrow for readiness and a dog, for courage, loyalty and vigilance.”

“Are you making that up or do you just randomly know heraldry stuff?” Shaw slides her hand down further, parts Root’s labia and wafts water against her.

“I took a class in first year. I was bored.” Root explains, sliding her hips forward in the water so Shaw touches her properly, and leaning her head back on Shaw’s shoulder with a sigh. “That feels good.”

*

“Mmm,” Shaw agrees, padding her fingertips up and down the length of Root’s clit, “you wanna come in the bath?” 

“Sure,” Root squirms comfortably, “if you’re not squashed.”   
  
“I like you on top of me,” Shaw reminds her, touching with more purpose, making a throaty sound when Root’s pussy twitches against her fingers, “can I touch your tits?” 

She’s asking with her words not with her hand, and Root thinks that’s probably because she’s trying to give Root more control, more power, and it warms her blood, tingles sparkling through her veins at Shaw’s coarse words and submissive tone. 

“Yeah,” she agrees, arching her back against Shaw when Shaw brings her slightly callused left hand up to cup Root’s breasts, pulling them together and palming them, sending spirals of heat to curl in her belly.

Shaw dips her right hand down a little, trailing over Root’s perineum and back up again, walking her fingers up and down everything before focusing with deliberacy on her clit when Root shifts and pushes Shaw’s hand tighter against her pussy. 

It’s not long before she’s shaking apart, water splashing up the sides of the tub as she clenches and shudders against Shaw’s body, against her hand. Shaw gentles her with long, water-slick touches down her stomach and thighs, not touching her anywhere over-sensitive, until Root exhales with a long, contented sigh and tries to curl into Shaw’s neck.

“If you wanna cozy we gotta get out,” Shaw points out, making Root grumble. 

Shaw makes up for the mean announcement that it’s impossible to cuddle satisfactorily in a small bath by drying Root off gently and then making the bed while Root drinks some water. She even opens her arm once she’s on the bed so Root can curl up against her, enjoying the languid relaxation of a long, hot bath and a sweet, slow orgasm. 

“Any requests?” Root hums, pressing herself full length against Shaw’s naked side, scratching over her ribs so gently there won’t even be lines left behind.

“The big feeldoe, if you’re okay with it. Maybe some choking?” Shaw always sounds a little unsure when Root pushes her for general input, but Root is lazy and relaxed enough she doesn’t wanna put the work into figuring out what Shaw wants right now, and they’re at a place where she can ask and it won’t destabilize the dynamic between them.

“Sure, lover. Go get the dick and clean it up for me,” Root makes it impossible for Shaw to obey the instruction by leaning down to cover her nipple with her mouth, closing her teeth around it and tugging until Shaw squeaks before letting it, and her, go.

Shaw makes quick work of washing the dick off, and watches Root with huge, dark eyes, her lip between her teeth as Root sets up. The orgasm she had in the bath has loosened her muscles up enough that the large bulb sits fairly comfortably, but she still gasps and pulls a face as it goes in. 

“C’mere, darlin’,” Root reassures Shaw with the affectionate words, and Shaw relaxes where she’d tensed up almost imperceptibly—presumably at the mild discomfort Root was exhibiting. The dick is big, and takes some prep work for both of them, so Root beckons Shaw into her lap so they can kiss with the dick between them, so Shaw can grind up against her.

They kiss deep and slow, Root sucking on and nipping at Shaw’s lower lip, using her hand to hold the feeldoe at the base so she doesn’t get pushed around too much but Shaw can rock her hips against it, glide her clit over the hard silicone. Root urges her up a little, wedges her hand past the dick and gets fingers into Shaw before Shaw realises that was her intention, making her groan and shiver, cocking her hips into the penetration.

Root holds her there like that for a bit, until Shaw’s making needy little noises and is all pink in the cheeks, and then she lets her fingers slip out, slaps Shaw’s thigh gently until Shaw lifts and slides down onto Root’s dick. 

She breathes out as she settles, adjusting to the size of the dick, it’s wide enough Root can barely get her fingers to touch around its breadth, and while Shaw loves a good pounding she still has to ease into this dick unless she wants to be limping the next day. 

As soon as Shaw is relaxed, curling her hips and letting Root lift into her, Root wraps her fingers around Shaw’s throat.

The smaller girl gasps, throws her head back, damp hair sending little droplets of water down onto Root’s chest. Root grins and squeezes, feeling the soft skin over tense tendon, the thick swallow Shaw can’t control bobbing past the grip of her fingers. 

Root chokes her out until Shaw’s eyes are rolling back and her lips are swollen and flush and then eases her grip enough to let the blood flow past uninhibited. Shaw groans deeply and blinks, dazed and dizzy looking until she focuses back on Root and gives her a look of such violent heat that Root clenches tight around the bulb inside her, shifting against her insides as Shaw rides her dick. 

They both make a noise when Root tightens her hands again, presses deep with her thumbs against Shaw’s carotid and feels the squirming of the large vein trying to force past the pressure. Root’s feeling the rush, the power of playing Shaw like this, of having her at Root’s mercy obedient and desperate, and it’s making heat build in her belly, insisting she move more and faster, hammering into Shaw as hard as she can. 

Shaw shudders and wriggles, grinding her clit against Root’s pubic bone, desperate for more contact, but Root’s hands are both busy and she doesn’t want Shaw to come just yet, wants to play like this a while longer. 

She chokes Shaw out two-handed three more times before she thinks it’s enough, changes to a single handed grip and scrapes down Shaw’s sweaty chest to tweak her diamond hard nipples before continuing on a downward journey to end between Shaw’s legs. 

Shaw’s slick and sliding up and down the dick so easily Root takes a second to split her fingers, press one each side of the dick and feel Shaw’s pussy push down onto them and lift away, before taking pity on her and angling herself so she can rub firm circles on Shaw’s clit, squeezing the breath out of her one last time. 

Root nods permission when she releases her hold, and Shaw comes hard as the blood rushes back to her brain, curling forwards so she can half-sob into Root’s neck, juddering and swearing in a string of garbled nonsense that makes Root smile as she strokes her hand down Shaw’s back, soothing her through her violent orgasm. 

“There now, my good girl,” she lets Shaw stay hidden in her neck, easing her thrusts until Shaw moans and wriggles off, trying to stay in Root’s lap but not on the dick, making Root laugh softly. She reaches down and pulls the dick out with a grunt of pleasure-discomfort so Shaw can relax properly with nothing in the way, and keeps petting her until her breathing’s back to normal and Shaw manages to sit up, blinking sleepily as she looks around. 

Root figures out she wants water and hooks it off the floor by the bed with one hand, offering Shaw the click-lock bottle. Shaw downs half of it gratefully and then flops sideways, a contented grin on her face. “Mmm.” 

“Mmm,” Root agrees, although she’s washed with energy and lust, still, wants to shove Shaw down into the mattress and slide back inside her. They have an early morning again, though, and the dog still needs to be taken down, which means one of them has to remain somewhat alert.

She leaves Shaw relaxing in a hazy pile and rinses off in the bathroom. Then she pulls on sweats before heading out to the dog park. Attila does her business and they wander back upstairs. Shaw’s already brushing her teeth in the bathroom, so Root goes in and slides her hands around Shaw’s still naked waist, humming in pleasure.

“You need to go again?” Shaw garbles around her toothbrush, and Root smirks, kissing her on the cheek much to her disgust before stepping away to take care of her own bedtime routine. 

“Real quick before we K.O,” Root agrees, before leaning down to wash her face.

She manages to be fairly quick, if not really really quick, and she’s asleep before Shaw turns out the light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks mish for the 'shaw loves baths' headcanon that you have cemented in my heart forever and always. 'fuck you, that shit is relaxing' <3<3<3


	3. Not A Zero Sum Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No mono, no thank you.
> 
>  **Important Note**.This chapter contains relationship negotiation, discussion of non monogamy, non monogamous actions and other such polarised topics. If you want to skip it, that should work out okay, and I'll post a short summary below for the skippers. 
> 
> More details if you want them: In this chapter Shaw hooks up with a dude at a bar basically at Root's behest, there's navigation and feelings and shit, but it all works out in the end because guess what, you don't have to be mono to have an awesome relationship :D
> 
> Please don't read this if you're just gonna get upset and mad at me. I've turned anon off for a bit just in case. I hate that I'm so nervous about posting this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: some borderline graphic discussion of f/m sex, marked with a rule each side.

**** The music is thumping and Root gives up on trying to follow John and Joss’ conversation, choosing to observe Shaw and Zoe at the bar. They’re ordering drinks, and two tall and handsome dudes next to them are clearly showing an interest. Root watches, thinking, as Shaw grins up at one of them. 

Shaw hasn’t hooked up with anyone excluding their threeways since before Root came into her life, as far as Root is aware. Which she hopes is factual—not because she doesn’t want Shaw to have slept with anyone, but because she doesn’t want to have been deliberately misled on that account. 

Their drinks arrive, and Shaw pays the server before exchanging a few more words with the tall guy. He touches her arm lightly, and Shaw leans in for a second before pulling away and shaking her head, her eyes flicking over to their table. 

Shaw doesn’t exactly flinch when she catches Root’s eyes, but her face tightens and her eyes go flat and masked. She leaves the guy at the bar even though he's still talking and eases her way through the crowd back to her seat. 

Root takes her drink, distracted. Shaw slides into the space next to her, pushes her knee against Root’s, she looks kind of uncomfortable. Root twists her mouth to the side in thought, and Shaw opens her mouth to speak, but Root jumps in ahead of her.

“He’s cute,” she observes, trailing her finger around the rim of her newly arrived glass.

“Yeah, I guess,” Shaw shifts her weight uneasily, like she might be about to make a break for it.

“You thinking about hooking up with him?” Root inquires, making sure her tone is light. She keeps her eyes off Shaw, but pushes their legs tighter together under the table.  
  
“No... I mean, I wouldn’t. You’re here...” She sounds pretty squirmy, and Root drops her hand onto Shaw’s thigh under the table, squeezes gently. Shaw leans in like she's grateful.

“It’s okay,” Root bends her head, so she can speak right into Shaw’s ear, “it’s okay if you wanna fuck him, I get it.” 

Shaw doesn’t say anything, avoids Root’s eyes and fiddles with the peeling label on her beer bottle.

* * *

 

Root chooses her words very carefully, glancing over at the bar. Zoe’s still laughing with the other dude, the guy who was hitting on Shaw is leaning his elbow on the bar, bobbing his head to the music distractedly, “so you’re not thinking about him shoving you against a wall, big, and hard, and strong...? Maybe putting you on your knees in an alley, unzipping his pants for you,” Shaw shivers, looks up at Root with drawn eyebrows and a distressed expression.

* * *

“Root, don’t.”

“I’m not fucking with you, babe, it’s okay to want people who aren’t me,” she pauses for a second, but when Shaw opens her mouth to reply, she dives back in, “you remember when you called me up from that bar? And I said you could fuck him, and then you didn’t, you came over instead?”

“Yeah, of course,” Shaw mutters.

“Well... that’s the only time we’ve talked about it. And I’m getting a little worried, actually.”  
  
“Worried?” Shaw downs about half her beer after squeezing the question out, and Root makes sure her own body language is relaxed, trying to convey to Shaw that this isn’t a _bad_ conversation, it’s just a conversation.

“Yeah. We have it pretty well understood that we don’t wanna be in a mono relationship, but how many times are you gonna say no to cute boys in bars before it starts being a problem for you? That is... as I understand it, all you used to do, before me. Casual hookups. You’ve told me you don’t even like knowing people’s names. And now there’s me, and you’ve changed every part of your life for me, and don’t get me wrong... I’m in this for the long haul, but I don’t want you to cut a part of yourself off because you think I ... won’t accept it, or something.” It looks like Shaw’s about to break in, but Root’s committed now, forging forwards, “you say no this time, you say no next time, you say no a thousand times. And how long do you think it’s gonna be before you say yes and think it’s easier not to tell me about it, because it doesn’t really matter anyway?” 

“I’m not... I won’t _ lie  _ to you, Root.” Shaw blurts, desperate, and Root pats her leg gently, reassuring. 

“I’m concerned we’re gonna paint you into a corner where you end up not having a choice about it. So I want you to go and hook up with that guy.”

“What?” Shaw has a look of consternation on her face, like Root is breaking up with her, or something, and Root softens, leans in and presses her mouth against Shaw’s cheekbone. Shaw melts into it, clearly off balance and confused. 

“I’m good at scenarios, right? You know that. Logic. So, let's look at the options... You wanna fuck him, and you don’t. Okay, fine. Works for now, works for a year, maybe, maybe works for five. Ten? Are you seriously okay with the idea of never touching a biodick again? Because that’s kind of where you’re headed if you’re only fucking me and having the occasional joint threeway. If so, that's fine, bisexuals do that all the time, but is that gonna work for you, specifically? If it was the other way around I don't think I'd be okay with that. ” 

Shaw’s mouth works uselessly, like she’s fishing for words. Root keeps talking, “and what about if you do fuck him? Are you gonna fall in love with this random dude you met at a bar and break up with me, move into his shitty shared house and ... I don’t know, sing in his band? He looks like he might have a terrible band...”

Shaw snorts like she's surprised by her own amusement, “no!”

“Are you gonna remember you like biodicks so much you’re not gonna wanna fuck me anymore?”  
  
“Never,” Shaw is relaxing now, leaning into Root’s body.

“Okay, so my worst case scenario if you fuck him is that you’ll have fucked him, which to be honest, just isn’t that big a deal to me. I’ve fucked a hundred people and the only person I’ve ever wanted like I want you, is you. If I fucked every girl in this bar I’d still feel that way. How would you feel?”

“Impressed... If you fucked every girl in this bar,” Shaw looks up at Root, her eyes big and dark and hard to read, “you really feel like that? About me? Like I could fuck him and you wouldn’t... be jealous?”

Root smooths her hand down Shaw’s side, feeling the shape of her, “jealousy isn’t logical. You and me... we’re solid, we’re good. We’re... gourmet,” Root grins at her own train of thought.

“What?” Shaw blinks, her face crinkling up in mild confusion.

“Food. We’re gourmet, fucking five star, write a foodblog about our deliciousness food. But sometimes, everyone... even Martha Stewart... wants a shitty kebab,” Root gestures at the guy, who’s threading his way through the crowd off to the side now, like he’s heading outside.

“Go eat some junk food. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Shaw dithers a second, presses her face hard against Root’s cheek, “you are...you are...” she flails, looking for words.

“Yours. And you are mine. And no quick blowjob in an alley is gonna change that, so why worry about it? Sex is a big part of you, like it’s a big part of me. I lo.. I care about you,” Root almost dislocates her tongue trying to correct, but Shaw doesn’t flinch, “why would I want to make you miserable? I saw your face when you walked away from him. You were... resigned. You weren’t happy because you were coming back to me, you were choosing me because you thought I was making you choose and you’d rather be with me long term than be with him right now. But I’m not making you choose, Sameen.”

Shaw kisses her then, one of those kisses that fills in the gaps for words you can’t say, kisses her and draws a star on Root’s chest, over her scar. Root detangles gently, and pushes her away. 

“I’ll be here.” 

*******

 

“You okay?” John slides around the table, bumping his knee into Root’s gently and almost making her spill her drink. He jerks his chin at Shaw crossing the dance floor.

Root nods, “yeah, we’re good. Just... ironing out some kinks.”   
  
“I thought you guys loved your kinks,” John jokes weakly, taking a mouthful of his beer, “she gonna fuck that guy?”

Taking a second to fiddle with her glass, Root nods, hair falling in front of her face, “yeah, think so.” She’s in one of those weird, twofold places, where she knows to the core of herself that this is a good thing, the right thing, that it’s what she wants for Shaw and for herself—freedom for both of them in certain ways—but right now is also a bit twisted up about it. She just has to sort through the feelings though, and that’s okay, that’s to be expected. 

John drains his beer, grabs her hand, “come do some shots and dance with me,” he half drags her to her feet, and she finishes her beer on the move. 

Shots are a good idea, she loosens up, logics her way out of the screwy-feelings bit by giving herself a stern talking to. A girl eyes her up, and she could definitely fuck her, kind of wants to, but decides she can’t tell if she actually wants to-wants to, or would just be evening the score. 

She doesn’t even wanna  _ keep  _ score with Shaw, let alone even it up. Although, that’s worth keeping an eye on, because if she ends up feeling like Shaw’s getting whatever she wants and Root’s not herself, then that could be problematic, down the line. Root likes one night stands just fine, but not like Shaw does. Shaw clearly enjoys the part of it where she gets to feel a bit used, a bit dirty. 

Root likes hurting people enough that completely vanilla sex doesn’t do that much for her, she likes to at least hold them down and bite them a bit, and that’s harder to negotiate in a one nighter. Not impossible, of course, but she prefers to pick subs up at kink parties rather than at straight clubs. Hard enough even finding a lesbian in this sort of place, let alone one who wants to hurt. 

She wonders what Shaw is up to right now for a split second, and then determinedly pushes her way to the bar and forces Zoe to do more shots with her before rejoining John and JC on the dance floor. No point in torturing herself, after all. If Shaw was fucking a girl right now, Root would wanna hear about it, would probably wanna squeeze the details out of Shaw and use it as a sexy game, but the idea of her fucking a guy is more of a turn off than a turn on. But that’s her issue, not Shaw’s. Neither of them are monogamous people, neither of them  _ want  _ to be monogamous people, even by accident, and Shaw’s face at the bar said more clearly than her words have ever managed that the only reason she’s not been indulging her usual habits is because she’s worried about losing Root.

And Root isn’t worried about being lost, or about being thrown away. So why on earth should Shaw be forbidden from doing something she wants to do?

With that in mind, Root loses herself in a haze of booze and dancing. 

 

***

Root sees Shaw first, like she has radar, like the people in the club split perfectly just for that one freeze frame shot of Shaw pushing back into the bar, her hair mussed and her lips red. 

She catches Root’s eyes and her face is soft and as close to nervous as Root has ever seen her. It washes the slight hurt away, seeing how Shaw is screwing up her courage to come back over and find out if Root was lying or not, and she waves, beckons, throws her hands up and rocks her hips. 

Shaw mimes doing a shot and Root nods, holds Shaw’s eyes until Shaw turns away and slides her way to the bar. 

When Shaw winds her way through the crowd, her hands are sticky slopped with tequila, and Root’s glass is half empty. Shaw’s already done hers, and she looks shyly up at Root from under her lashes, doesn’t relax until Root throws her drink back and winds her hands around Shaw’s waist, pulling her into her body.

She presses a sweaty kiss to Shaw’s neck, feels her shiver against her, and they relax into the beat together, dancing until the lights go up, taking them by surprise. The Team tumble out into the warm night, giggling. 

Root has her hand stuffed in Shaw’s back pocket, a handful of ass. Now Shaw is back with her, it’s not uncomfortable any more. 

She doesn’t really wanna know what Shaw did with that guy, has no interest in teasing out the situation more than it needs to be to get the feelings stuff sorted, and she thinks Shaw will let her set the example of how this is gonna be handled, at least for the night.

They don’t kiss, though, haven’t kissed since Shaw came back, and when they stumble in through the apartment door, Shaw reaches up for her with her mouth. Root twists a little, takes it on the cheek, and grabs Shaw by the belt when she tries to pull away at the perceived rejection. 

“It’s all good, I just wanna rinse you off,” she shifts, a little uncomfortable. “I don’t need to know if you kissed him, or whatever, but I’d prefer if we can do the getting bed ready part now and then make out.” 

Shaw looks hard at her for a long minute and then nods, “alright.” She heads right for the bathroom, and Root hurries to catch up, feeling like they should stay touching now, at least, to make sure that everyone’s okay and everyone knows they’re not fighting.

Shaw jumps in the shower, and then they get ready for bed in silence, until Root feels like maybe Shaw thinks she’s being punished, so she worms her hand under Shaw’s waistband, pulls her back against Root’s body in front of the sink. “I just don’t want to talk about it, it doesn’t mean anything bad.”

“You literally always want to talk about everything,” Shaw grouses, but relaxes into Root’s body anyway.

“Is it okay if we don’t talk right now, this time?” Root inquires, smoothing her thumb across Shaw’s soft belly skin.

“It’s  _ always  _ okay if we don’t talk as long as you don’t get mad in like a week and break up with me.” 

“I promise not to do that, then.” Root presses her smile into Shaw’s neck. “Just come to bed?” 

“Yeah.” Shaw nods, pats Root’s hand on her tummy. “Let’s go to bed.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Biodick meaning: Biological genitals that both are a dick and are used like a dick in a cisnormative fashion.
> 
> In case you haven't come across that before.


	4. How Does It Make You Feel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it was important to get this one up close to the previous one as it leads on from there and I don't want y'all to forget what happened. 
> 
> Content warning: Discussion of nonmonogamy, relationship negotiation, mentions of: genital piercing, branding

“I get that you don’t wanna hash it all out,” Shaw takes a deep breath. “But...How does it make you feel?” She asks, poking her toes under Root’s thigh. They’re sat on the couch, Root is annotating some printed out sheets of code, and Shaw’s studying some textbook or another.  

“What?” Root pushes her glasses up her nose and puts her papers down on her thigh, because Shaw has a serious voice and has been shifting like she’s about to talk for the last half an hour.

“When I fucked that guy on Friday. Did it make you feel... bad?” Shaw waves a hand vaguely at her body, presumably trying to communicate anxiety or some other bodily sensation. It’s been two days, and Shaw’s had a little twitchy energy around her, presumably working on this question. For all that Root would prefer not to have this conversation at all, she knows they have to. 

Root settles back in the corner of the couch, bringing her full attention to Shaw. “Not bad. Not good, but like... not bad.” Shaw pokes her like ‘keep talking’.

“Well... I have to logic myself out of feeling jealous, I guess. Cause we’re all so programmed to be possessive and jealous and feel like we personally lose stuff every time someone else gains something. But I haven’t actually lost anything...” Root twists her mouth in thought, breathes for a second, “it’s like... you love steak, right?”

“Why is your go to monogamy discussion always food related?” Shaw inquires, relaxing against Root’s knee. 

“Cause it’s always relevant,” Root smirks, “you love steak, I don’t love steak. But like, if I tell you you can’t eat steak anymore I’m making a decision about your rights and your body, not about my rights and my body. And if I tell you you can fuck a dude and then act like a pissy little bitch about it, then I’m just trying to manipulate you into not doing it anymore, even though I’ve said you can. It’s withdrawal of permission. If I said it was okay, and then really didn’t feel okay about it, we’d have to talk about that. But if I didn’t feel okay because I was jealous—which I am a little but don’t want to be, then that’s my issue to work through. And shouldn’t mean you don’t get to eat steak while I figure out how to feel good about it, when I have nothing valid against it.”  
  
“Steak being dick, in this context,” Shaw wrinkles her nose at Root and pulls one of her feet out to plunk in Root’s lap. Since it’s there, Root starts rubbing it gently. 

“Cis men, I guess.” Root demurs, “you eat my dick just fine,” she waggles her eyebrows at Shaw, who rolls her eyes dramatically. “The whole point of being a couple is that things are better together. And just cause you wanna spend some of your time doing things I don’t wanna do, doesn’t mean I end up missing out. Unless our sex life takes a hit, or you start picking up boys all the time, then we’d have to reconfigure. Fucking one dude in the year we’ve been together doesn’t seem like a big deal to me, logically. I just have to.. Get from the 'it's icky' part to the part where I’m happy you’re happy. And I know  _ how  _ to get there, I’m just...still en route. I dunno. It’s like... soccer, or when you have an especially good fight with someone at the gym. I’m not sat here like ‘but I can’t fight you! So you should never get to fight anyone if I can’t do it too!”

“Sex isn’t really like a sport though,” Shaw points out, arching her foot in Root’s hand.

“Eh, it’s a physical thing you enjoy doing, don’t need to do for survival, but for your happiness.” Root shrugs, “it’s not a perfect metaphor.” 

“So you didn’t feel bad? I don’t want to make you feel bad.” Shaw says determinedly, her eyebrows drawn in with seriousness.

“Naw, sweetie, I didn’t feel bad. I felt a bit off balance, but that’s cause we’ve just started to work this shit out. It’ll take a little while to get our heads around it, properly, but I think we both want to retain certain freedoms.”

“I feel like...” Shaw pauses, frowns, “like we can have threesomes together, and then I can sleep with guys, but is that unfair on you? Cause you’re not really having sex outside of us.” 

“Fair’s whatever we say it is, babe. I’m good having all different flavours of sex with you, and some with people we pull in from time to time. If I was interested in men we’d have a bit more flex. As it is, we’re working around some differences in our tastes, and that’s okay. I like picking people up with you, and I like playing with you in front of people. I guess if I’m like... away for a bit and have an itch to scratch I’d like to know that you’d be okay with that.” 

Shaw thinks for a minute, rolling her ankle and then withdrawing her foot to present the other to Root’s waiting hands, “yeah, that’s legit. And even here, if you like, want a change or whatever. I wouldn’t be mad.” 

“You’re very cute,” Root says, much to Shaw’s clear disgust and retraction of her foot as punishment. “I haven’t wanted a change yet, but I’ll keep that in mind.”  

“Alright. Good.” Shaw closes her still open textbook with a thump and discards it on the table. “So can we do something fun now?”   

“Yeah, sure.” Root carefully sorts her papers and plops them onto the table next to Shaw’s book. 

“Heads Up?” Shaw grabs her phone off the couch arm and Root snickers, Shaw loves Heads Up, gets rabidly competitive and it’s adorable. They’re not as good as Joss and Zoe are at the game, so Shaw has started wanting to play more on their own, for practise.

“Sounds good. I’m gonna bake, you want?” Root slithers off the sofa and pads over to the bookshelf, grabbing her living room weed supplies.

“If you roll,” Shaw agrees. 

Root grins to the bookcase and carries the box over to the table, “you can start if you like,” she flicks the box open and starts making a fat little joint with the already-ground weed. Shaw grunts, messaging someone, and Root snickers while she twirls the end of the joint neatly.  

“Outside!” Shaw half yells, scandalised, as Root lifts the lighter to the end of the joint. Oh, yeah. Since they got a dog Shaw has been strict on where they can and can’t smoke. Attila is lying on the floor next to the heater chewing on an antler thing right now, which means Root isn’t allowed to spark up in the living room.

She obediently traipses over to the French windows and opens them, squeezing onto the balcony and leaning her arms on the fence that rims it while she waits for Shaw.

The moon is big and fat, yellow like a pirate coin and low on the horizon. Shaw slips up behind her, tucks her hand into Root’s waistband companionably, she’s such a hand-in-pantser,  and looks out over the cityscape while Root lights up. 

“We should look for a house,” Root says, with her lungs full of smoke that trickles out around her words. They haven’t really talked about it that much, but with the addition of a fairly large dog to the apartment, it’s becoming clear that logistically this isn’t going to work out for them. 

“Yeah.” Shaw agrees easily, leaning against Root’s side. 

One of the best things about Shaw, from Root’s perspective, is how infinitely practical she is. Once they had the initial talk about money and Shaw realised that Root’s rich enough that very little makes an actual dent in her savings, she was happy to have Root pay for stuff so they could have what they wanted instead of making Root feel like she shouldn’t get the nicer things. It’s great, even Hanna would have the occasional moral panic about the logistics of having a sugar-friend. But Root doesn’t get that at all, and it seems Shaw is on board with her attitude toward finances, now they’ve had some time to figure it out. 

“What’s the dream?” Root trails her hand across the back of Shaw’s as she passes the joint over to her, and then daringly presses a kiss to Shaw’s temple. Shaw huffs and scowls but doesn’t move away, and Root takes the victory with pleasure.  

“I guess two bedrooms? And it’d be sweet to have like a workout space or something.” Shaw blows a smoke ring, but it’s not very good and shatters in the air, drifting away in pieces.

“And a garden, for the hun,” Shaw lets Root call Attila the ‘hun’ without complaint. “Maybe a converted basement would be good for a gym and art space.” 

“If we have a gym in the house you know I’m gonna make you sweat sometimes,” Shaw looks up at Root pointedly. Even after a full year Shaw does not understand how Root doesn’t exercise beyond the occasional swim.  

“You make me sweat all the time,” Root grins, turning a little and pressing herself against Shaw’s hip.  

Shaw smirks, obviously pleased. “So we’re looking at something outside of the city,” she points out. 

“Yeah, I guess. And fuck, we may as well get three bedrooms and then we can have the whole team out to stay over. Zoe can take the couch if JC brings Caleb. We can have barbecues and shit but no one has to drive home.”

“So.. three bedrooms, a garden, a soundproof basement...” Shaw waggles her eyebrows and Root snorts.

“Yeah that would be great but we can get that installed. I’ll call an estate agent in the morning, we can start idly looking anyway. Maybe something will grab us and we can get it converted.” 

“Being rich is infinitely easier than being poor,” Shaw snarks, passing the joint back again.

“It’s not like I haven’t seen both sides of things,” Root nudges Shaw with her hip, mildly stung. She gives to charity, and stuff. One day she’s gonna set up a scholarship for nerdy gay kids in the bible belt, she grins thinking about it, letting the knee jerk reaction go.  

“I know,” Shaw agrees, gently pinching the skin of Root’s hip, “I’m still adjusting.” 

“I’ll buy you some diamond earrings,” Root jokes, “help you get used to it.” 

“Urgh,” Shaw shakes her head. She wears cheap BCRs from bodycandy like a normal human being, and that’s never gonna change. Unless, well, maybe if they were going somewhere  _ really  _ fancy Shaw would wear diamond earrings. 

“Alright, fine, a diamond clit clamp,” Root suggests, docking the joint in the ashtray that lives on the balcony. “Wait, that actually sounds really hot.”

“Remember Kelli’s clit piercing?” Shaw snickers, “you were super into that.”

“Like you weren’t!” Root giggles, mock defensive, before sliding the balcony door back open and heading into the warmth of the cozy living area. Attila bounds over to greet them so she sits on the floor in front of the couch to get some puppy petting time. Shaw slides down next to her, tugging Attila’s ears gently.

“If you wanted to get a clit piercing, I’d be totally behind that,” Shaw’s making a cheeky face with a fake solemn voice on.

“If  _ YOU  _ wanted to get a clit piercing, I’d be totally behind  _ that _ ,” Root rebuffs, having zero interest in genital piercing, personally, “I don’t even have my ears pierced.”

“You’re a weirdo. And I’m an athlete, there’s no way I could get a clit piercing. Plus then you’d have to be way more careful with me in case you pulled it out." 

Root pulls a face. That sounds  _ terrible.  _ “True. Okay, no clit piercings. What about your nips? You’d look great with nipple rings and I could tie you up with them...”

“Not a chance,” Shaw shakes her head, opening the Heads Up app on her phone with the familiar music but not starting the game yet. “I’d be more into getting a tattoo.”

“My name on your ass?” Root grins. 

“If you got my name on your ass,” Shaw deadpans.

“I think if I ever did a permanent body mod I’d go for a brand,” Root wriggles her legs out straight, dislodging Attila who flops over in a heap between them, belly to the sky, which they both automatically start petting. 

“Oh yeah?” Shaw sounds intrigued, and Root nods, tipping her head back on the couch.

“Hanna had a few. I did one for her once. It looked...intense.” 

“Cool.” Shaw wriggles her toes, “sounds extreme. Put it on the ‘maybe’ list.” 

“You’re yellow for possibly letting me brand you?” Root inquires.

“Or, in fact, branding you, which is what we were actually talking about.” Shaw points out.

“Oh...yeah.” Root hadn’t really thought about the logistics of it all. “Revisit when sober?”  

Shaw just tips the phone to start the countdown in response, holding it in her hands so Root can’t see the screen. 

“Okay... Nebula and Gamora,” she spits out, high speed playing is definitely Shaw’s preference, even if it always descends into mocking the other person’s eventually terrible clues. 

“Guardians of the Galaxy,” Root hastily responds and Shaw tips the phone for success, gets her next title. 

“Urgh I think it’s Tom Cruise, the name is boring sex slash icecream flavour and also the thing the moon and stars are in...” Shaw looks at Root to see if she gets it.

“Vanilla Sky?” Root does get it, Shaw gives good clues.

“Nice.” She dings the phone, “crap, there’s definitely murder, it’s like everyone’s dad’s favourite movie, I think it won an Oscar? I can’t remember what it’s about.... Um, okay the united states, england, canada are all...?”

“Countries?” 

“Yeah, now imagine you are not allowed one of those because you’re an ancient dude.” Shaw flails wildly.

“What even... oh! No Country for Old Men!” Shaw holds her hand out for a high five and Root slaps it, pleased with her skills.

“Warrior Princess.” 

“Xena,” that was so easy Root rolls her eyes, and Shaw doesn’t even have time to start the next one cause the bell rings.  

“Four, that was shit,” Shaw declares cheerfully, handing the phone over to Root, and Root grins as she pokes her feet under Attila while her hands are busy.

“Ready.... Julia Roberts is a hooker.” 

“Pretty Woman,” Shaw doesn’t miss a beat.

“Uh, I think this is a musical? Like with Beyonce in it maybe?” Root really doesn’t know, the screen says Dreamgirls. Shaw shrugs uselessly, so Root passes. “Ooh you love this movie, Hiccup and the cat animal that can fly!” 

“How to Train Your Dragon!” Shaw yells excitedly.

“Yesss, okay, Carrie Bradshaw in New York.”

“Sex and the City,” Shaw groans, shaking her head, “what a shit show.” 

“I can’t believe you watched it. Oh! This is one of the dozen movies Katniss Everdeen was in with the drunk chef from Kitchen Confidential. I think it’s about dancing.”  

“Bradley Cooper... Silver Linings Playbook?”  

Root nods delightedly and flicks to the next movie while Shaw rolls her eyes at Root’s apparently terrible clue. “Five disparate teens get detention on a Saturday,” Root throws her arm in the air like Bender and Shaw snickers.

“Breakfast Club.” She says smugly, and the countdown last thirty seconds timer starts.

“SHARK,” Root yells. 

“The Shallows?! No? Jaws!” Shaw yells back, both  of them getting caught up. Root passes the next one cause it’s Talledega Nights and she doesn’t know what it is, and she has twelve seconds left.

Instead of giving Shaw a verbal clue for Zoolander, she does her best Blue Steel, and Shaw cracks up, hardly able to get the movie title out over her laughs.

“Yesss, nice one. That was good. We got seven.”  

“We’re staying up til we get ten,” Shaw grins, taking the phone and leaning her elbow on the couch cushion. “Ready?” 


	5. The Locked Shed of Mystery (and a very lovely evening)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact I got so many comments on the last couple of chapters (good, bad and mediocre) that I've been thinking a lot about this universe, which means somehow I found time to write this 6k fic. Your comments directly result in more fic and don't let anyone tell you otherwise :)

Shaw likes when Root sings in the car. Root doesn’t usually sing along when they’re listening to music at home, always doing something else at the same time that distracts her enough she doesn’t sing, but when she’s driving she’s normally at least mouthing the lyrics. Shaw would never tell her, but it’s pretty cute.  
   
Root thumps her hand on the steering wheel in time to the rising bass and yells “I wanna kiss the girls from centerfolds... on the tongue...and die young,” loud enough that Atilla pops her head up over the passenger seat to see what’s going on.  
   
The sun is streaming through the rolled down windows and heating Shaw’s arm up pleasantly. It’s illuminating the faint shadows of bruising around her wrists from where Root held her down last night and fucked her stupid. Shaw squirms a little, remembering the possessive look on Root’s face, how she made Shaw hold eye contact while she was coming. A pleasant, low level thrill runs through her body, pooling around the soft ache left over from a long fuck. She turns her wrist, admiring the marks, they look nice in the sun, but Root’s probably burning, even though it’s gone four. Shaw will have to remind her to put on some suncream when they arrive, unless the boys have shade available. They’re heading out to the boy’s new house for a combined housewarming and birthday party for Joss where she doesn’t have to clean up.  
   
They haven’t been there before, but the satnav gives them plenty of notice when they have to turn down a small residential street. Shaw counts the house numbers off and then spots Joss’ car parked on the side. Root pulls in behind it and parks competently. The sight of her pale, strong fingers shifting on the gear stick make Shaw regret the probable lack of opportunity to bang on the boy’s pullout couch. Joss and Caleb get the spare room, since it’s her birthday, and Zoe has already excitedly declared she will be sleeping in the hammock outside. Shaw fully expects that Zoe will crawl into the couch bed with them approximately four minutes after Root has finally managed to fall asleep, and has brought a camping mattress for her own inevitable retreat to the floor. It’s good to be prepared.  
   
Grabbing their bags and a couple of cases of beer out of the trunk, they make their way up the six concrete stairs and check out the front of the boys’ new digs. It’s a cute little house that looks a lot like all the other houses on the road, but in a bright periwinkle blue—a shade Shaw declined to give her opinion on when Harry and John were choosing—with a white trim.  
   
The garden up front is a small lawn with nothing exciting going on, but they’ve been told to head straight down the side and into the back, where they can already hear Zoe laughing like a hyena.  
   
There’s a little gate separating the front from the back, and Root squeezes past Shaw to open it, cause Shaw’s arms are full of beer and she’s smart like that. Attila huffs and slides through Shaw’s legs, trotting into the yard with an excited whuff.  
   
“Hey team,” Root calls as they round the back of the house, emerging onto an open, paved area with a wooden pagoda over it and some outdoor seating surrounding a grill-covered firepit, which currently has John crouched over it with a look of epic concentration on his face.  
   
“Heeyyyyyy,” Zoe hollers, leaning back so far she almost falls out of the hammock she’s straddling, between two of the pagoda corner posts, “you’re last!”  
   
Harry comes out of the backdoor with Joss and Caleb right behind him, all of them armed with various things. Bear belts it after them and races over to Attila, yipping happily. Shaw keeps an eye on them for a moment to make sure they’re still friends, but judging from the happy snuffles and whuffs they are all set for their own, doggy hangs.  
   
Joss has a massive jug of Sangria and flashes them a bright grin over top of it. “Hey!”  
   
“Happy birthday,” Root tells her, dropping her bags with a sigh of relief. Shaw lugs the boxes of beer over to a wooden table and pops them down on the top, then spies a plastic bucket full of ice underneath that already has bottles in it. She grabs a cold one and pops it on the edge of the table with the trick Romeo taught her, smug at getting it on the first try.  
   
When she turns around, Joss has put the sangria down and is hugging Root, and Harry’s unloading his tray of glasses onto the table.  
   
“Want the tour?” He asks, grabbing some of her new delivery of beers to slide into the ice bucket.  
   
“Sure,” Shaw agrees amiably, because it’s a nice day and she’s not feeling like too much of an asshole.  
   
“Where are you going?” Root inquires as they head into the house. Shaw high fives Joss on the way past, which is like a birthday hug, but less obnoxious.  
   
“Grand tour,” Harry waves a hand, “want to come?”  
   
“Definitely,” Root agrees, “we just started looking for a house.”  
   
“Really?!” Zoe exclaims, scrambling out of the hammock with exaggerated movements, “what kind of a house?”  
   
“One to live in,” Shaw replies drily, ducking through the open back door. It leads right into a kitchen area, which is open plan to a living space, and has big windows above the counters on one side.  
   
“Nice kitchen,” she flares her nostrils, “and I smell steak.”  
   
“It’s... still raw...” Harry blinks at her, “it’s for the barbecue.”  
   
“Hmmm,” Shaw grins at him, “alright, fine, I’ll wait. Where to?”  
   
Harry heads through into the living room and Root pinches Shaw’s bum hard enough to make her jump as they follow.  
   
The tour doesn't take too long, it’s a nice house, but fairly small. It has two bedrooms—one of which is more of an office with a bed than anything else, a huge bookshelf taking up most of the longest wall—one and a half bathrooms, and a cute little balcony off the main bedroom, with two deck chairs and a small table. Shaw thinks eating breakfast out there would be good.  
   
When they head back to the yard, John has the fire going and has arranged plates of raw meat next to it ready to go on, while Zoe is slicing buns and Caleb is cutting up tomatoes and stuff for salad.  
   
Joss is lounging in the hammock with her eyes closed and a huge glass of Sangria with a gold straw. She has her iPod in her other hand, and is ‘djing’, right now it’s Rihanna and Eminem, singing about monsters under the bed.  
   
“Where do I get a fancy straw from?” Root inquires as Shaw goes to back-seat grill because John always overcooks the burgers, he’s much better with a regular grill than a barbecue.  
   
“Birthday girls only,” Joss replies to Root airily, making Shaw snicker. She finishes her beer and flips the burgers, much to John’s annoyance.  
   
Caleb and Harry get into some boring conversation about tech, so Shaw half-listens to Joss, Zoe and Root chatting about this and that, nonsense they’ve all been up to, while arguing silently with John over cooking times, until everything smells like delicious meat and she grabs a plate so she can have first pick.  
   
Joss doesn’t even get out of her hammock, but directs Caleb and Zoe on what to get her with a shit-eating grin on her face, clearly enjoying not being the one to look after everyone and be organized for once.  
   
When everyone has their food, they settle down on the couches, dicking about a bit as they stuff their faces. Shaw is too busy eating—there’s only two more burgers and she wants to make sure she gets one as soon as it comes off the grill, even though she has two on her plate already—to join in.  
   
Thankfully, no one beats her to the burger, although Root does make her take some salad with a pointed look and a raised eyebrow. Shaw has her plate half-loaded with meat and potato salad—which according to Root does not count as actual salad, along with, annoyingly, pasta salad, tuna salad AND egg salad. Why do they have salad in their names, then? Shaw internally grumbles as she dishes herself some leafy greens.  
   
After dinner, someone grabs the Tequila Pigs game and they start working on getting thoroughly wasty pants and being collectively terrible at speedy math, except Root and Harry who can do it all in their heads instantly and so are nominated to be in charge.  
   
Shaw is fairly sure she catches Root cheating when Harry is in the kitchen taking plates inside, but she doesn’t say anything because why on earth would she? The face Root makes when she thinks she’s gotten away with something is very good.  
   
Eventually Tequila Pigs loses its charm and they start a rousing game of Exploding Kittens, which Shaw destroys everyone at, somehow, so she’s feeling pretty smug by the time they switch to Cards Against Humanity. John has the Crabs Against Humidity expansion packs and Shaw’s never played them before, which injects new life into the familiar experience of playing the same game with the same people. Someone starts passing a joint around while they play.  
   
By the time they’re done laughing so hard their bellies hurt, night is drawing in and John switches on some large bulb light wires, woven through the pagoda. It’s pretty good, making the mid-sized garden look interesting.  
   
Bored of sitting around, Shaw grabs a new beer and whistles for Attila, who comes running out of the house where presumably she’s been getting the tour of Bear’s toys and stuff. After a second, Bear trots after her, and Shaw squats down to pet them both, and then grabs her phone to use as a torch and heads down the path, on a garden exploring adventure.  
   
She’s a little bit high, and quite a lot drunk, and the garden has a lot of trees and bushes breaking the space up. Her boots crunch on old moss and stuff that hasn’t been cleaned off the path yet, and she wonders if anyone has been down here since they moved in, except Bear, who clearly knows where he’s going.  
   
She spends a good half an hour wandering around the outdoor space, enjoying being on her own for a bit, and especially enjoying the two dog situation. She wonders if she can persuade them both to sleep on the floor with her later, and make a dog pile. That sounds very cozy to Shaw right now.  
   
By the time she’s back to the group, Zoe has replaced Joss in the hammock, Joss now sitting next to Caleb, tucked in at his side with her bare feet up and pressing against Root who’s got her head back laughing uproariously at something.  
   
The arrival of the dogs gets everyone’s attention, and there are some good dog cuddling moments as they make the rounds before settling down on each side of the fire pit.  
   
Shaw flops down next to Root, kicking John until he begrudgingly swaps seats and sits on the other side of Harry.  
   
“Good garden,” she tells them.  
   
“We haven’t had much time to get it sorted out, but it’s pretty nice, hey?” John brightens up. “There’s a shed right at the back we haven’t even been in yet.”  
   
“Ooh what if there’s treasure!” Zoe declares excitedly.  
   
“There’s FOUR padlocks on it, we have to break them off,” John sighs, “just haven’t gotten around to it yet. The estate agent says the previous owners never went in there.”  
   
“If there is anyone sat here not thinking ‘we need to immediately break into this shed’ I’m disowning all of you,” Shaw states flatly, grabbing the joint from the ashtray and lighting it. “Root, did you bring your lockpicks?”  
   
“...No, I did not bring my lockpicks to Joss’ birthday barbecue,” Root says slowly, and then sighs, “I’m an idiot.”  
   
“Agreed. What do you need to pick four padlocks?” Shaw is average at lockpicking now, but Root is still much faster, and four is a lot of padlocks.  
   
“Umm depends how many pins they have, but if they’re fairly basic I can probably do it with a drink can and a knife.”  
   
Shaw points at her, “that’s very hot, someone get her a knife. Okay. We’re gonna need lights, lots of torches and lamps and shit, do you have headlamps?”  
   
“Yeah, they’re in the earthquake box,” John declares, clearly on board, “I’ll get them and the leatherman.”  
   
“What else do we need?”  
   
“Boxes?” Joss suggests, “to like, sort stuff into. Or we’ll end up leaving it all on the grass.”  
   
Harry looks a bit despairing, “we do still have our moving boxes.”  
   
“Excellent!” Shaw’s enthusiasm for this idea knows no bounds.  
   
John comes back with a leatherman and some rinsed out cans, and Root moves off the couch-chairs to get better light near the kitchen door. Shaw goes over to watch because she’s all for learning more nefarious skills.  
   
“Are you gonna shim them?” Caleb asks from the sofa, and Root turns to grin at him.  
   
“Obviously. Wanna try?” 

“You know I’m terrible at that,” he sighs, “if you fuck it up I’ll clean your cuts though.”  
   
“Deal,” Root snickers, carefully digging the point of the knife into the side of the can and starting to cut out a rectangle of aluminium. “You make this little shape,” she tells Shaw distractedly, “and sort of wedge it down the side of the padlock locking arm, and try to use it to poke the pin that slots into the padlock loop out.”  
   
“Sounds easy,” Shaw smirks, leaning her leg against Root’s shoulder.  
   
“Yes and no. If they don’t work I’ll go on a hunt for something to pick them with.”  
   
“You did the minigolf one with a penlid,” Shaw points out.  
   
“That was like, a child’s padlock, for show not for anything else. Anyone who sticks four padlocks on a shed is probably more serious about it.”  
   
“Good point. Want me to go take a photo of them?”  
   
“Naw, that’s okay. We’ll try this, see how it goes.” Root has a pile of three rectangles with an ‘M’ shape cut out on one of the long sides, and she carefully curves them a bit and then straightens up. “Alright, I’m set. Who wants to be the torchbearer?”  
   
“I’ll do it, John comes back out again with his arms full of torches and a camping lantern, “I have head lamps so you can light yourself up as well.”  
   
“Nice,” Root grabs a headlamp and puts it on. It’s equal parts ridiculous and attractive, and then she clicks it on and half blinds Shaw.  
   
“Jesus,” She complains, stomping away. “Alright team, let’s break open the shed of secrets and mystery.”  
   
“Now taking bets on what we find!” Zoe announce, turning her phone screen on so it lights her face up creepily. “I have dibs on treasure because I said that first.”

“What counts as treasure, though? I reckon it’s antiques,” Joss bounces to her feet and runs her hand over Caleb’s shoulder, “what do you think?”  
   
“Um, sorry to be boring but for the chance to win, I think it’s probably gardening tools.”  
   
“Why would you put four padlocks on gardening tools?” Shaw scoffs.  
   
“Maybe they have a thief problem?” Caleb hazards, getting to his feet also.  
   
“I’m going with drugs,” Root starts down the garden path, her headlamp casting slices of light across the bushes and trees. “Like a meth lab, locked up to keep the grandkids from getting in.”

“I really hope it’s not a meth lab,” Harry groans, “we’re all stoned and we’d have to call the cops.”  
   
“We’d call them in the morning you massive loser,” Zoe skips after Root, “whatever’s in there’s been in there for years, I’m sure it can wait another day.”  
   
“What if it’s a body?” Shaw asks, just to fuck with Harry, who makes a disgruntled noise.  
   
“It would have to be a really old body for Bear not to have smelled it, so it’s probably okay,” John says in what presumably is supposed to be comfort.  
   
“So I’m guessing skeleton, then,” Shaw snickers, because Harry’s face is very enjoyable.  
   
They pile up in a standing-heap next to the shed, and Root scoots them back so she has room to move. “Even if they only take me five minutes a lock you’re gonna be standing here for twenty minutes,” she points out.  
   
“True. John, get a crate of beer and the next joint,” Shaw instructs.  
   
“You do it! I’m holding the torch,” John says, aggrieved.  
   
“I’m good with the headlamp,” Root mutters distractedly, wedging her aluminium rectangle thingy around the padlock loop and waggling it violently.  
   
Shaw leans in with interest, and Caleb says, “I’ll get the beer.”  
   
It takes Root probably more like ten minutes a padlock, but the Team are pretty good at entertaining themselves, and in the end she does get them all popped open, and the door creaks slightly as John leans around to yank on the handle.  
   
“Last chance to place your bets!” Zoe yells, “Harry, you didn’t guess.”

“I think it’s empty,” he grouches, putting his beer bottle down on the side of the path.  
   
John pulls the door open and everyone tries to shine their torches in their all at once, only for Zoe to leap back, yelping, almost knocking Shaw over.  
   
“What the fuck?” Shaw complains, unable to see past John.  
   
He sounds a bit strangled when he answers. “Uh, it’s either the set of a horror movie, or ... no, that’s the only reasonable explanation.”  
   
Shaw ducks under his arm to look and swears when her light falls across the insides of the shed. Inside are dozens, maybe hundreds, of porcelain dolls. It’s creepy as fuck, and Shaw wrinkles her nose as she shines the light further in.  
   
“Well, it’s not a meth lab,” she points out, laughing.  
   
“It’s almost worse,” Harry moans.  
   
Root slides in next to Shaw, looking around, “this is fucking horrifying.” She sounds delighted.  
   
“Agreed,” Joss complains, “and it’s my birthday. Can we lock the murderdolls back up?”  
   
“We’ll have to get rid of them.” Harry sounds like he’s halfway up the garden path again. “But not tonight.”  
   
Root leans down and whispers in Shaw’s ear, “wanna grab one and hide it in their house somewhere?”  
   
Shaw definitely does. Maybe on the toilet tank or something, she grins and nods, and Root turns and faces John, deftly picking a dusty doll off the shelf and offering it to Shaw, shielding it with her body. “I’ll lock up, it’ll just take a second.”  
   
“Okay, see you back at the fire,” Shaw announces airily, sliding past John with the doll carefully tucked under her arm.  
   
“What...” Zoe starts, but Shaw kicks her in the shin, cutting her off and shakes her head, “what ... should we do now?” Zoe corrects, getting on board with the plan she clearly kind of understands. She smoothly relieves Shaw of the doll so Shaw can block John a bit ‘by accident’ as he tries to get out of the shed.  
   
“Headsup?” Joss suggests, watching the doll wrangling with wry amusement, and stepping on Caleb’s toe when it looks like he might be about to ask what the fuck they are doing stealing a doll.  
   
“Yessss!” Zoe yells, running up the path like a horse, “also I want at least ten of those dolls for an art project. I'm gonna send photos of them back to everyone who sends me a dick pic!”  
   
“That might actually discourage people from sending unsolicited dick pics,” Joss snickers, heading after Zoe.  
   
“People do that?” Caleb sounds horrified, “why would you do that?”  
   
“Awful Men!” Root and Joss say simultaneously, and then laugh.  
   
Root shuts the door behind her, and Shaw waits while she does one of the padlocks back up, leaving the rest undone. “We’ll tell Harry I locked all of them,” she says to John, “he seemed quite freaked out.”  
   
“That episode of Brooklyn with the dolls gave him nightmares,” John confides and Shaw snickers, making a mental note to make sure it’s only John who finds the doll.  
   
Zoe @ Shaw // I put it in the fridge //  
   
Shaw @ Zoe // nice one, give it a min and then send John in for juice or something  
   
Zoe @ Shaw // I’ll tell JC To do it it’s her bday  
   
Zoe @ JC, Shaw // JC in like fifteen mins ask for some more juice there’s a murder doll in the fridge.  
   
JC @ Shaw, Zoe // you guys are a fucking nightmare. Okay though, should be funny.  
   
Zoe then seamlessly opens the headsup app on her phone and grins at the group, “prepare to be crushed....”  
   
Joss sits forward, a serious expression on her face, and the phone dings the countdown before Zoe starts yelling.  
   
“Little Miss....”  
   
“Sunshine... Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” Joss yelps, and the phone dings for success, Shaw grumbles to herself and grabs a new beer. They’re annoyingly good, it’s always impressive.  
   
“Scarface number three.”  
   
“Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban,” they literally don’t miss a second.  
   
“Oh, Will Smith, aliens...”  
   
“Men in Black.” Joss says confidently and Zoe shakes her head.  
   
“Nope, the July 4th one.”  
   
“Independence Day!” The phone dings for success and Zoe starts the next clue.  
   
“Katniss Everdeen this girl is onnnnnn,” she sings to the tune of Alycia Keyes.  
   
“Catching Fire, how did they miss putting that song in the movie,” Joss grumbles.  
   
“Ah, Tom Cruise, he’s a teenager, they’re all teenagers, stay golden, Ponyboy!”  
   
“The Outsiders,” Joss says confidently.  
   
“Um he can jump back and forth through,” Zoe taps her wrist where a watch would be, “and he gets married.”  
   
“Time Traveller’s Wife,” Joss just about falls over herself answering and the thirty second timer starts.  
   
“DRUGS! LOTS OF SCOTTISH DRUGS!” Zoe yells.  
   
“Trainspotting!” Joss yells back, and Shaw leans forward, quite caught up in it now.  
   
“Also drugs! But Leo Dicap and basketball, shit, I said basketball,” Zoe passes what is obviously the Basketball Diaries.  
   
It’s almost the end of their round and Shaw silently wills Zoe to fuck up again.  
   
“Then I saw her face! Doo doo doo doo,” Zoe sings speedily.  
   
“SHREK,” Joss yells, and then end of the round goes before Zoe can pass to the next title.  
   
“Thank you, thank you very much,” Zoe gives herself a round of applause and thanks herself at the same time, and then passes her phone to John. “You’re up, Ponyboy.”  
   
“Monkeyboy, more like,” Shaw snickers, then gets distracted by Attila flopping onto her feet.  
   
“Alright, movies or superstars,” John asks Harry.  
   
“Superstars,” Harry replies.  
   
“Okay, here we go!” John tips the phone, “queen of England from the 1550s.”  
   
“Elizabeth the first,” Harry spits out.  
   
“E=MC squared.”  
   
“Einstein,” Harry replies.  
   
“I didn’t know superstars was so easy,” Shaw snarks, but then John passes two in a row before finding one he can do.  
   
“He was one of the Bonds, and he was Chiron in Percy Jackson,” John grins.  
   
“Wait, Sean Connery? No... Pierce Brosnan? Yes!” Harry whoops as John dings to confirm.  
   
“A famous nurse, the founder of nursing.”

“Florence Nightingale.”  
   
“Oooh she’s like the most famous wedding dress designer in the world?” John scowls a bit at Harry’s blank face, “that’s embarrassing. Um, her surname is like a joke name for dicks?”  
   
“Just pass,” Harry grumbles, and John does, but the thirty second timer starts up.  
   
“President who has the top hat, four score and blah years ago...”  
   
“Lincoln,” Harry gets it quickly and John rushes to get to the next one before the timer ends.  
   
“Oh, white dress, most famous film lady, she has the dot on her upper lip, pin up girl, happy birthday... mr president,” John does a frankly terrible impression of the birthday song and the timer ends the round before Harry can answer.  
   
“Marilyn Monroe,” Shaw declares, cause it should be obvious to everyone. Sometimes she feels bad for John having to play with Harry. “Right, my go.” She leans over to grab the phone and switches back to movies and TV. “You ready?”  
   
Root nods determinedly, with a serious expression. Good, just cause it’s Joss’ birthday doesn't mean they shouldn’t put in their best possible effort.  
   
“If a virus spreads really fast it’s highly....”  
   
“Contagious... Contagion,” Root corrects herself to the right form and Shaw grins, dinging the phone.  
   
“The Dark Knight Starts.”  
   
“Batman Begins,” Root grins.

“The original dinosaurs movie.”

“Land Before Time,” Root yelps excitedly but Shaw shakes her head at her loser girlfriend, shamed. “Jurassic Park,” Root guesses and Shaw dings the phone.  
   
“Traffic is terrible during...”  
   
“Rush Hour,” Root is extra good at the clues where Shaw trails off midsentence, since her brain goes very fast and she’s always filling in what people are probably going to say anyway. Shaw knows this cause Root talks over the TV a lot, although she’s usually pretty good at controlling herself amongst friends.  
   
“One of those two movies about normal dudes who turn out to be God, this is the one with the guy who has the same name as the Hulk...”  
   
It takes Root a second, “Bruce Almighty,” but she gets there  
   
The thirty second timer starts and Shaw tries to talk even faster, “golden ticket, candy.”  
   
“Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,” Root says confidently but Shaw has to shake her head, pulling a face.  
   
“The Johnny Depp one!”  
   
“It has a different name?” Root complains, clearly rattling her brains, and Shaw passes the Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory card.  
   
They have just a few seconds to go, “giant elephant ears cartoon!”  
   
“DUMBO!” Root gets it out just as the end of round sound goes, and she collapses against the sofa, breathing dramatically hard. It’s kind of hot, and Shaw forgets to look at the screen for a second. When she does, she pulls a face.  
   
“Seven.” She can tell she sounds grumpy.  
   
“That’s pretty good,” Root points out.  
   
“Winner winner, chicken dinnerrrrrr,” Zoe stands up on the hammock and just about falls out while shaking her hands above her head like a champion boxer. “Still unbeaten, still ferocious, it’s JOE!”  
   
Joss rolls her eyes, and Caleb laughs, curling his fingers around the back of Joss’ neck, “I didn’t know when we started dating that you came with an existing plus one, but it’s kind of nice.” He says, and Shaw thinks that’s a good thing to say so she salutes him with her beer bottle.  
   
“Wanna go again?” John inquires, obviously ashamed at his poor efforts, “switch the clue giver over to get a fair shake both ways.”  
   
“I love a fair shake both ways,” Zoe declares.  
   
Just then, a rumble of thunder shivers through the air, and a couple of raindrops splash onto Shaw’s arm. “Looks like it’s about to come down,” she observes. “Why don’t we head inside.”  
   
“Yeah, sounds good. Hey, John, do you have any more cold juice for my Sangria?” Joss asks smoothly.  
   
“Sure!” John is always such a gentleman, it makes him very easy to manipulate. He gets up and they gather most of the mess to take in, which works out perfectly because everyone has an excuse to be in the kitchen when John opens the fridge door and lets out the highest shriek Shaw’s heard in a while.  
   
They’re all killing themselves laughing, except Harry, who has no idea what is going on and is also worried about John. It’s so good, he dashes over to see what’s happened, and lets out an equally high yelp of shock when he catches sight of the doll in the fridge.  
   
Zoe did an amazing job, the large doll is positioned on top of all the sauce bottles on the top shelf, in a crawling forward position, her curly hair blocking most of the fridge light and providing an excellent creepy back-lit situation.  
   
Shaw slides to the floor down the cabinet, laughing so hard she’s wheezing a little.  
   
John sulks for the whole next round of headsup, where Shaw and Root manage an impressive nine, but are still defeated for the crown by Joss and Zoe, who hammer out twelve with no passes or fails. Shaw resolves to force Root to practice even more.  
   
They end up sprawled out in the living room, and then there’s cake. Zoe brings it in all lit, and Caleb opens a bottle of fizz, and they all toast to Joss at exactly midnight when it turns to her official birthday.  
   
Full of cake and lying down on the floor with her head on a pillow against Bear’s dog bed, Shaw is feeling pretty fucking good about life. Root has her fingers tucked under Shaw’s knee ,and every now and again she’ll move them a little, tug on the fabric or squeeze lightly. Instead of irritating Shaw or turning her on past functioning, it’s just a low-level awareness of the other person that feels good inside. 

They do presents next, but Shaw declines to get up. She got Joss a signed set of the Earthseed series by Octavia Butler, and she can tell Joss is really pleased by the nose-wrinkled grin she gets when Joss unwraps it. Root got her a handbag Joss had been recently drooling over—the price tag of which is ridiculous, but try explaining that to Root. John and Harry went in together and got her a new laptop to replace her old one, which she’s been bitching about enough on twitter that everyone sort of saw that coming. Zoe comes through with a selection of laptop accessories, a cover, a bag, a decal and a matching phone case, all in classy black with gold accents that are really fucking cool, in Shaw’s opinion.  
   
Caleb appears to be empty handed, and Zoe pokes him, when everyone else is done looking at the varying presents, “where’s yours?”  
   
“It’s not really the portable kind of thing. It’s gonna get delivered tomorrow morning,” Caleb smiles a bit shyly, “and then Joss can tell you what it is afterwards.”  
   
“Or... counter offer, Joss can leave the room for a minute so we can all find out now,” Zoe suggests, and Shaw snorts.  
   
“Joss is pretty smart,” Caleb looks at JC affectionately, “I’m pretty sure she’d work it out from the noises you’re almost certainly going to make.”  
   
“That’s what she said,” Zoe somehow manages to use the phrase to agree, “okay, fine. Presents are complete for the day, at least I’ll be there tomorrow to see for myself. What now.”

“Movie time!” Joss kicks her feet happily on the couch, “as per tradition, we will be watching a kick-ass lady film, and for tonight, we’re gonna go Alien.”  
   
“Yes!” Shaw bothers to sit up for a high five. Sometimes Joss’ kick ass lady movies are like... Erin Brockovich, which is all well and good, but when wasty of the pants, guns and screaming is better.  
   
“I’ll get the popcorn,” Harry clambers to his feet.  
 

***

Half an hour into the second Alien movie, Shaw finds herself outside, having a smoke with Joss and Zoe, giggling into the cool night air and sitting on her own bare feet to keep them warm.  
   
“I can’t believe we’re like... adults.” Joss says, holding the joint between her thumb and forefinger and squinting at it. “I'm twenty three. I'm a graduate. Who let this happen?”

“I know!” Zoe agrees, squirming herself even more around Joss’ side, “Harry and John are getting married, you have a serious boyfriend, Shaw has a...” she catches the look from Shaw, “a Root who’s been a thing for a year now.”  
   
“Wait that’s right, is your anniversary coming up?” Joss inquires, passing the joint over. Shaw takes it distractedly.

“I... don’t know?”  
   
“Yeah, it’s on September 17th,” Zoe says confidently, leaning over to snag the joint when it becomes clear Shaw isn’t gonna do anything with it.  
   
“..What?” Shaw has many questions, like ‘when would our anniversary be and why’, ‘how are you so convinced of this’, ‘does Root know’ and probably a few more... like ‘am I supposed to do a thing’, that’s definitely a question she has.  
   
“Yeah, you met after that soccer practice when you broke Collier’s nose, and that was September 17th, I distinctly remember because I got my period two days early and had to send John to get me tampons and he almost cried.” Zoe takes a puff and tries to eat it again as she exhales.  
   
“Well why is it when we met, then?” Shaw asks, feeling a bit defensive.  
   
“Cause all your other good first-things are stained with bitchface, whereas that one, when you first met, was only about you two. Plus we went out dancing and you ground four boys to the point of erectile distraction then declared them all ‘too vanilla’ to bother going home with, and went to Burger King instead of getting laid. And you brought Root up approximately twenty five times throughout the evening, when you usually never talk about anyone or anything if you can help it. And that, my friend, is when I knew that she was going to be a Thing in your life.” Zoe sounds extremely convinced, and Joss is nodding.  
   
“Oh. So that’s in... three weeks.” Shaw estimates. “Shit, that’s really soon. Do you think she wants to do a thing?”  
   
“Ask her?” Joss suggests reasonably, and Shaw makes a face. If she asks then it might seem like she wants to do a thing, or doesn’t want to do a thing, and aren’t you just magically supposed to know what your partner person wants with this sort of stuff?  
   
“Or, counter suggestion, do a thing that’s not like a big thing in time or energy, but will be a big thing in Root’s mind. Why don’t you paint her something?” Zoe suggests.  
   
“Eh, I’m painting my mom a thing right now,” it would be a copout to the same kind of present, “and more importantly I’ve got nowhere to hide it while I was doing it.”  
   
“Do it at ours and tell her you’re working,” Joss suggests.  
   
“We don’t lie to each other,” Shaw replies, distractedly.  
   
Zoe pulls an impressed face, “that’s a good idea. Sounds ooc but good idea. I’m probably never gonna try that though.”  
   
“Eh, I’ll think of something.” Shaw dismisses the conversation both internally and externally, leaning over to take the joint back. “Let’s go and watch the Alien goodness.”  
 

***

“Are you guys having sex,” Zoe stagewhispers from the sliding doors into the living room, “it’s too cold in the hammock.”  
   
“I have my hand down Shaw’s pants but it’s just resting,” Root mumbles sleepily, and Shaw grimaces and pulls said hand out of her pants because now that Root’s drawn attention to it it’s weird. She’s irritatingly honest when she’s mostly asleep.  
   
“That’s adorable.” Zoe hisses, definitely trying to whisper but ending up louder than normal speech, “can I spoon you?”  
   
“Kay,” Root wriggles closer to Shaw, but Shaw is warm and sleepy enough that she stays where she is for now. The camp mattress is still in the car, annoyingly, but if she gets cramped there’s always Bear’s doggy bed and canines to use as blankets.  
   
“S’okay,” Shaw shifts closer to the edge, “shut up though.”  
   
Zoe falls over about five things on her way to the couch bed, and crawls in behind Root. She somehow wriggles her legs through Root’s enough that cold feet end up pressed against Shaw’s bed cozy calves, making her grumble. But Root’s arm is warm over her hip and sleep is pulling at her again. She’ll move in a minute, there’s no rush, after all.  
   
   
   
  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'I wanna be a Kennedy' by Kill Hannah, sung in the car by Root.
> 
> All games mentioned are real, google 'em if you wanna know what they are further than explained in text :) I tried to write them playing CAH but it was a clusterfuck, just like when I tried a year ago :D sorry!
> 
> edit: I legit JUST made the connection between Kill Hannah the band, and dead Hanna the friend and I am deeply ashamed of myself but also v attached to Root singing that line so... I'm sorry. She has not made the connection either! Somehow. Suspension of disbelief! You'll cope :D


	6. While the Camera Spins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Root has noticed Dani giving Shaw the eye (who hasn't) and is willing and able to utilize that for her own benefit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legit cannot believe "While the Camera Spins" is an ACTUAL LINE from Tesellate, the Machine wanted me to write this long distance Dani-service-tops-for-out-of-town-Root fic and nothing you say will convince me otherwise.
> 
>  **content warning:** Oh so many things. Bondage, sadism, domination, masochism. Dirty talk? Forcing people to talk. Long distance skype bangs, sharing a sub, service topping, ice, ropes, cuffs, spreader bars, nipple torture, orgasm delay, oral, strap ons, anal, butt plugs, sexual shaming, masturbation, vibrators, probably some other stuff but if you are reading my smut you should be okay, it's the long distance that is New.

Shaw steps out of the shower, this one much longer and more luxurious than the quick one she’d grabbed after the tournament. She could have... and probably should have stayed out with her dojo, but the lure of being antisocial was stronger. She’d had two beers, and then left when it started descending into overly familiar interactions between the rest of them that made her slightly uncomfortable.  
  
Harry and John have the dog for the night, so Shaw doesn’t even have Attila for company. She’d go and pick her up if she wasn’t sure John would be annoying about why she’d changed her mind.  
  
She grabs a towel and scrubs her soaking hair for a minute before wrapping another one around herself and padding out into the bedroom. She flops on the bed with a sigh, staring blankly at the turned off TV. She wishes Root was here.  
  
But Root’s not here, called away to New York for an important meeting Control refused to reschedule, something about regulatory bodies and investors. Root should be here celebrating Shaw’s first proper occasion of being back in the ring. But instead, she’s off doing her thing.  
  
Which is fine, obviously, just.. Maybe Shaw’s feeling a little at a loose end right now, a little pent up and antsy.  
  
She halfheartedly watches an episode of Z Nation, before pulling on jammies and wandering out into the kitchen in search of sustenance. It’s only ten p.m, she could go to bed, she supposes, but she doesn’t really feel like it.  
  
She’s halfway through a toasted cheese and ham sandwich when there’s a knock at the door. Twisting her mouth to the side, she sets her plate down on the kitchen counter and swallows heavily before walking over to the door and checking the peephole. It’s Dani, of all people. No kids in sight, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a babysitting favour. Shaw debates on whether or not to open the door, and then her phone buzzes in her soft cotton shorts’ pocket.  
  
Root @ Shaw // Open the door, Sameen. //  
  
There’s... something... about the tone of the text. About the use of ‘Sameen’, not ‘Shaw’. The punctuation, even. Something about the text that lets Shaw know this isn’t just random. Root’s planned something, or why would she be texting Shaw to open the door? And Dani’s outside.  
  
Shaw flashes to every moment Dani’s ever checked her out—a lot—and every moment she’s responded somewhat in kind—a fair amount—and every smug little look on Root’s face when she’s seen their interactions—one hundred percent of the time she’s been around.  
  
She opens the door.  
  
Dani gives her a slightly uncomfortable grin, and hands Shaw a phone. “It’s for you.”  
  
Shaw takes it automatically, lifting it to her ear. She’s not even surprised when she hears Root’s voice come over the line.

“Hey, sweetie.”  
  
“Hey yourself.” Shaw avoids Dani’s eyes. The cop stands, relaxed looking, with her hands in her sweat pants pockets. Only the look on her face lets slip she’s not feeling entirely in control.  
  
“Listen, don’t talk.” And Root has her dark voice on, the excited one, it sends a thrill through Shaw from toes to scalp. She feels her nipples harden in the wake of the shiver, sees Dani’s eyes drop and heat involuntarily.  
  
Shaw swallows the urge to respond, to say yes, to say anything to fill the sudden silence and weight of Dani’s eyes on her. Root drags it out for a minute, maybe two.  
  
“You have three choices, right now, Sameen. If you say ‘red’, Dani’s gonna take her phone back, and go home. She’s moving out on Thursday, so you probably won’t even have to see her again. If you say ‘yellow’, Dani’s going to come in, she’s gonna sit on the sofa with you and you’re both going to skype me. We’re going to talk about limits, hard and soft, and desires, and then maybe after that you’ll want to say ‘green’. If you say ‘green’ right now, Sameen, Dani’s going to come in and she’s going to pull me up on the big screen and do exactly what I tell her to. She’s going to touch you for me, because I can’t be there with you. She’s gonna hurt you, but not a lot. Up to four or so, nothing serious. Nothing you can’t take. Nothing you don’t want. So, Sameen, what colour are you?” Root sounds breathless with anticipation, but like she’s trying to keep it out of her voice, making an effort to sound calm and collected for Shaw. In case Shaw says no, says this isn’t a game she wants to play.  
  
But Dani is looking at her with compressed desire—like she knows exactly what Root is saying to Shaw, like Shaw’s face, surely soft and flushed with arousal already, has already given her answer for her.  
  
And fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen?  
  
“Green,” says Shaw, and it’s almost a whimper, and on the other end of the phone Root purrs happily in response.  
  
“Good girl, Sameen. Give Dani the phone back, go inside, get some rope, lube and a condom, a pair of Rodeohs, whatever dick you feel like, a glass of ice... do you need to write this down?”  
  
“No,” Shaw replies, her mind already in the bedroom, in the toy box.  
  
Root snickers, “okay. Dani brought her own handcuffs, so we won’t need those, but get the nipple clamps and a spreader bar as well."  
  
Shaw nods, even though Root can’t see her, and hands the phone back to Dani, leaving the door wide open as she tries to walk at a normal speed into the bedroom, running over the list of what Root said to fetch. She wonders if Dani doesn’t have her own toys, or if Root’s trying to give more control to Shaw, letting her pick the rope, pick the dick. She wonders how experienced Dani is, if she knows what she’s doing. But she trusts Root to have prepped her, to have done the leg work. And the idea of having someone’s hands on her as a proxy for Root...well, it’s not something she’s ever really thought of, but she’s wet and aching already just thinking about it. Thinking about Root watching them, and a stranger’s hands rubbing over her skin.  
  
She grabs a soft rope she can pull a lot against, and a medium sized dick that will work for wherever Root may want Dani to shove it, and the rest of the items Root had listed off.  
  
When she walks back into the living room, Root’s face is on the big screen, and Dani’s hooking a webcam up to sit on the top of the TV. There’s already one on the windowsill, Shaw observes with a momentary shift of discomfort.  
  
Like she’s read Shaw’s mind, Root breaks into a comforting smile on the screen. "All connections are secure and untraceable, unrecordable, unhackable. Nothing’s getting taped.” And Shaw relaxes, believing the earnestness in Root’s voice. She twists to make eye contact with the webcam on the TV, and wrinkles her nose in thanks.  
  
Root winks at her, and Shaw gives her a little grin before she heads to the freezer, remembering the last item on Root’s list.  
  
Dani, meanwhile, hasn’t said anything, has just carried on with her set up.  
  
Root’s voice comes out of the speaker again, her lips curling softly around the words, “put those down on the table, Sameen, and turn the couch around with Dani so you can kneel up on it and I can see your face.”  
  
Dani exhales in a shuddery little wave, and Shaw realises she’s nervous, her body language a little guarded, a little stiff, but they take the ends of the couch together at Root’s behest, and swing it around awkwardly.  
  
Shaw wants to ask if she should kneel right away, but Root will tell her, Root always tells her.  
  
“Music,” Root says, and looks at her phone in her hand, and then familiar, throbbing bass starts threading its way out of the sonos system. It’s the XX, and Shaw’s stomach twists pleasurably at the sound.  
  
“Sameen, Dani’s feeling a little bit unsure, I think. Let’s show her how good you are. Take your shirt off for us, sweetheart.” Root’s eyes flick from the camera—so her eye contact is direct—to her screen, watching the scene in front of her.  
  
Shaw swallows thickly, crosses her arms and grabs the hem of her shirt, can’t decide whether to face Root or face Dani, so ends up sort of between the two. Dani breathes out as Shaw slowly pulls her shirt upward, then over her head, holds it out in one hand and drops it with a deliberate movement. She’s not wearing a bra, which Dani must have known from when Shaw’s nipples got hard in the corridor, but she still inhales sharply, her lips parting.  
  
Shaw feels weirdly in control, to be honest, even though she’s doing what she’s told. It’s kind of like the balance is in her favour, she’s the one who knows what she’s doing with Root. She only has one unknown element—Dani, but Dani is dealing with two. Even if she has seen Shaw naked before.  
  
She arches her back a little, lets a small smile show on her face instead of holding it back. It seems like Dani could use the reassurance.  
  
“That’s nice, darlin’,” Root’s Texas twang is out in full force, “Dani, why don’t you kiss her. Get your hands on her, warm up a bit.”  
  
Dani dithers for a split second, and then nods, her eyes big and soft and fixed on Shaw as she crosses the short distance between them and then hesitantly reaches out. Shaw steps into her hands, because they all need Dani to relax a bit if she’s gonna push Shaw around like presumably everyone wants.  
  
Dani’s hands are cool against Shaw’s heated skin, and she tilts her head, a question in her eyes. Shaw represses the urge to roll her own, and leans up for Dani’s mouth.  
  
They’re almost the same height, so it’s not hard, and Dani makes a soft little sound of surprise onto Shaw’s bottom lip as she curls her hands around Dani’s hips, pulling them gently together.  
  
They fumble for a moment, finding an angle, noses bumping slightly before they slot together and Shaw sucks on Dani’s soft lip until Dani takes control, tugging Shaw into her body and demanding Shaw open her mouth for Dani’s tongue.  
  
The kiss is good, once it gets going, Dani uses her teeth a little, but not super confidently until Root mutters, “fucking bite her,” sounding slightly frustrated and then Dani splits Shaw’s lip with her teeth, the sharp pain shooting down Shaw’s spine and curling between her legs.  
  
She moans, arching, her pussy throbbing in time with her lip, and Dani pulls back, away from her mouth.  
  
“If you’re about to ask if she’s okay, don’t.” Root interrupts whatever Dani’s about to say, and Shaw wants to grin at how demanding Root is being, how much harder her voice is right now than usual. It's as though the distance has upped her dominance levels to something new and harsher. Shaw’s into it, and she grinds onto Dani’s leg to communicate this fact to both her current partners.  
  
Dani looks at the screen, then back to Shaw, and raises an eyebrow, a little smirk in the corner of her mouth, “she’s bossy.”  
  
Shaw almost laughs, wondering how Root will get her revenge for that, and then Root makes it clear, “I guess you don’t want my sub to get you off tonight, officer?”  
  
Dani blinks, looks momentarily scandalised, looks at Shaw like, ‘is she serious?’ and Shaw nods, because Root is serious and Shaw sure as shit isn’t gonna get Dani anywhere without Root’s express permission, in this context, because the look Root’s wearing heavily implies she’ll regret it.  
  
Dani snorts quietly, and then carefully takes her hands off Shaw’s body, standing so close that Shaw can still feel her warmth, leans into it inadvertently. “Whatever you say, Root.”  
  
“Exactly.” Root agrees, clearly pleased with the response. “Now you’ve introduced yourselves let’s get started before the ice melts. Shaw, up on your knees on the sofa, hands on the back of it. Dani’s going to cuff you and, yeah, let’s use the spreader bar as well, I can see you grinding your legs together from here.” The faint note of approval makes Shaw’s belly clench.  
  
Dani makes an ‘after you’ gesture, and Shaw tries not to grin as she circles the sofa and obediently climbs up onto it in the position Root described.  
  
The cold of metal around her wrists makes her clench, and Dani must see it in her face cause she gives Shaw a sharp grin and tugs on the tight cuffs like she’s gauging her reaction. They’re not the kind with a chain, just a hard, flat metal bar between the rings, and they’re tight enough that clenching her fists makes them dig in. Dani smirks when Shaw tries it. “I’ve had a lot of practise.”  
  
“Spread ‘em, Sameen,” Root interjects agreeably, clearly fine with the interaction, and Shaw eases her legs apart, wondering if she should have taken her shorts off. Dani clips her into the spreader bar with only a little difficulty, fastening it around her ankles fairly loosely. Shaw could get her thighs together if she really wanted to, but she’ll be good, she doesn’t wanna get Dani in trouble.  
  
Dani eases up behind her, presses her body against Shaw’s back, and slides her hands slowly around Shaw’s ribcage, holding there for a second before Root says, “yes,” and Dani makes a little throaty noise and cups Shaw’s breasts. Her hands are too gentle, like a tickling caress, and Shaw opens her mouth to ask Root for more but Root’s ahead of her, says “harder,” before Shaw gets the words out, and Shaw moans in gratitude as Dani’s fingers tighten, get firm on her soft chest and squeeze her nipples into aching points.  
  
“Clamps, and get the ice,” Root sounds heavy, and Shaw can’t see her hand on the screen. She wonders if it’s between Root’s legs already. On screen, Root’s wearing a white cotton shirt thin enough that Shaw can see her hard nipples, and it makes her ache and arch harder into Dani’s strong hands.  
  
Reluctantly, Dani lets go, pads around to the small display of equipment Shaw laid out, and finds the clamps. She gets them onto Shaw with little difficulty, clearly more familiar with these than the spreader bar. Shaw’s buzzing with anticipation as she breathes through the pain of having her nipples clamped. Dani rubs her hand over the hard, trapped peaks with a grin at Shaw’s shudder, then looks back at the screen, obviously waiting for instruction.  
  
“Take an ice cube, run it down her spine,” Root commands, and Dani obeys immediately. The cold is shocking, Shaw’s heated up and energised, and Dani runs it down slowly, like she’s calculating Shaw’s reaction. Shaw lets a little moan out, because sometimes you have to vocalise to encourage people.  
  
“Drag it over her skin until it’s melted, and then you can warm her up again with your body. Take your shirt off, touch her tits, cup her cunt through her shorts,” Root demands, and the coarse language fucking explodes in Shaw’s belly so she makes a little ‘umph’ noise without meaning to. On screen, Root smirks, and Shaw knows she caught the previous, not-quite-real moan and is making a point.  
  
The ice lasts a few minutes, Dani snakes it up her shoulderblades, traces her ribs, draws a nonsense geometric pattern until all that’s touching Shaw is icy fingertips, and then there’s a warm body plastered up against Shaw’s back. She can feel the points of Dani’s nipples against cold flesh, which makes Dani shiver and groan as her cold hands cup Shaw’s breasts again. Shaw doesn’t know whether to lean back, or lean forwards, which sensation to press into.  
  
Dani stays on her breasts until her hands are warmed up, and then drags one down Shaw’s belly slowly, breathing harsh pants against Shaw’s ear as she finally, finally cups Shaw’s pussy. Even through the thin cotton of the shorts it feels like fire, and Shaw lets her head tip back against Dani’s strong shoulder, looks at Root’s face on the screen, catching Root biting her bottom lip before she mutters, “fuck, yeah,” low enough that it’s barely picked up by the mike. Root looks like she’s getting off on this hard, and Shaw smiles at her, then loses it in a groan as Dani squeezes gently.  
  
“Again,” Root commands, breathless, and Dani releases Shaw to get another ice cube.  
  
Shaw thinks, as she settles into her body, into the warring sensations of cold ice and hot eyes tracing over her, that Root picked ice for two reasons. One, it’s an intense sensation without leaving anything behind, can wind Shaw up and feel like pain without requiring Dani to deliver any actual violence, and two, Shaw’s muscles are a little sore from fighting and being iced down actually feels really good in general.  
  
They’re on round six and she’s got her head down on her forearms, clenching her whole body at the sensation of frozen fingertips teasing roughly at sensitive, trapped nipples, when Root makes a sound Shaw recognises.  
  
Sure enough, when she lifts her head, Root’s pinching her own nipples with one hand, and she gives Shaw a wide, dazzling grin, “doing good, lover?”  
  
“Yeah,” Shaw grunts, she's doing really good. Dani flicks at her other nipple before squeezing both of Shaw’s breasts into one hand and curling the other one around Shaw’s pussy, over Shaw’s now dampened shorts—the ice melt and the arousal in about equal amounts have rendered them wet and unpleasant, and Dani must agree, because she looks up at the camera, licks Shaw’s neck slowly and then asks, “can I take her shorts off? They’re soaked.”  
  
“Mmmm, yeah, okay.” Root doesn’t apologise, or explain that she can’t see them, because that’s not her, but Shaw sees the little tick in the corner of her mouth that she has when she feels like she slipped up somehow, and it makes her have to hide her smile in her arm.  
  
She’s only smiling for a second though, because Dani’s hands are rough pulling her shorts down, leaving them tangled around the spreader bar against Shaw’s ankles and feet, and then she drags her nails up Shaw’s thighs, making her clench and moan quietly.  
  
“Is she wet?” Root asks, her voice thick with sex, and Shaw lifts her head to give Root a pointed look that's probably somewhat ruined by the arousal pounding in her veins. Root sure as fuck knows Shaw is soaked, has to know, but Root just gives her an unrepentant grin as Dani slides her still cold fingertips between Shaw’s legs from the back and makes a hissed little noise of pleasure as Shaw accidentally bucks against her fingers.  
  
“Yeah, she’s wet,” Dani breathes out slowly, hot on Shaw’s neck, and Shaw shivers, arches a little in the hopes Dani will touch her some more.  
  
Dani, obligingly, slides her fingers into Shaw for a split second, pulls out and drags wetness up to Shaw’s aching clit with her thumb, presses down and absorbs the violent shudder Shaw can’t control.  
  
“Tell me how it feels,” Root licks her lips, her eyes dark and violent. She pushes her chair back from the desk a little so more of her body’s in view, and Shaw can see her hand working between her legs, over... the pair of Shaw’s boxers she’s wearing. Root sees when she registers her underwear choice, and grins, stroking the Calvin Klein logo on the waistband with her thumb.  
  
Dani buys time by biting Shaw’s neck lightly, not that she’s complaining, and doesn’t move her hand away from its firm, smooth touching. “She’s so wet I could slide that dick right inside her without any more prep, it feels amazing, she’s tight and hot and her clit’s so hard...” Dani trails off, obviously out of words for now, but Root hums approval and Shaw just doesn’t want Dani to stop touching her, the pressure on her clit is divine and Shaw’s rocking her hips into it as much as she can with the couch and Dani pressed against her.  
  
Her knees are digging into the soft fabric of the cushioning, her thighs brushing against the back of the couch. Her forearms are feeling it where they’re taking her weight against the thinner couch back, but everything is great if you ask Shaw.  
  
“You wanna put a dick in her already, or do you want her to do something for you first?” Root inquires softly, gasping and grinding into her own hand on the screen.  
  
“What are my options?” Dani tugs on the chain between the nipple clamps and Shaw has to bite her lip to not cry out at the lightning strike of pain.  
  
Root grins, wolfish and sharp, and Shaw clenches down hard enough that Dani groans under her breath.  
  
“Well, Shaw is excellent at almost anything you care to name, so if you want her to put her mouth on you, or fuck you, fingers or a dick, she’s not fussy. Or maybe you want to make her watch you touch yourself. What are you into?” Shaw notices that Root doesn’t offer a blowjob on the list of Shaw’s talents, and the thought that maybe Root’s keeping that for herself makes her throb.  
  
“Oral sounds good,” Dani slides her hand into Shaw’s hair, tugs gently, Shaw wonders if Root told her Shaw likes that before or if she’s indulging her own instincts now.  
  
“We already did the safety checks, Sameen, so you can get up close and personal.” Root smirks, and Shaw has to close her eyes for a second to control the heat that swamps her at the way Root’s just handing her out, gifting her to Dani like a present. It’s so fucking hot Shaw can barely breathe past it.  
  
“Why don’t you unclip Shaw’s legs and have a seat in the armchair, and then she can kneel in front of you so I have a nice view of what you look like with someone tongue deep in you,” Root’s voice is more of a purr than anything else and Shaw and Dani both make a little noise at the same time, and then glance at each other, a moment of humour in the scalding hotness of it all.  
  
Root is grinning affectionately at them when Shaw looks back at the screen, and Dani stops touching Shaw in order to release her legs.  
  
Shaw stretches on the way to kneel in front of the chair, her wrists still very firmly restrained as she folds, naked, to her knees, this time able to sit on her feet and take the muscular tension off her thighs.  
  
Dani kicks off her sweatpants, and then her underwear, she was wearing a high cut thong that Shaw never would have expected, if asked to guess what kind of panties Dani favoured, but that makes perfect sense now that Shaw’s seen it on her muscular body.  
  
Getting to look at Dani is new, and Shaw makes the most of it, knowing she only has a few minutes, max, before she’ll be nose deep in pussy, which is also great but it’s nice to see what Dani looks like without clothing.  
  
She’s got an athlete's body, not nearly as muscular as Shaw but carrying decent definition and pretty to look at. Shaw indulges herself, licking her lips as she thinks about those strong thighs wrapped around her head, and Dani grins, looks down at herself and gives a cute little shrug before sliding onto the chair in front of Shaw and opening her legs so Shaw gets a full frontal view of her pussy.  
  
Shaw’s not really a wax poetic about the beauty of the female form sort of person, but Dani’s pubic hair is nicely trimmed and everything looks good to her, so she glances over her shoulder to see if Root looks like she should go for it or not.  
  
Root nods encouragingly and says, “go on, sugar, but go slow. Dani told me she likes it real slow.”  
  
Shaw glances up at Dani’s face, and Dani flushes, nods and tilts her hips. She looks a little embarrassed, and Shaw wonders if it was hard for her to talk through stuff with Root, if they did it over email or on the phone or if one day Root just pulled Dani into their apartment and asked her if and how she wanted to fuck Shaw.  
  
She’ll have to ask when Root gets back, but for now, there are other things to do. Shaw tangles her fingers on her own thighs and shuffles in to press a soft kiss to Dani’s inner thigh. She can smell her, enough to make her flare her nostrils to try and pull more of Dani’s scent into her as she lips gently up Dani’s muscular thigh to her hipbone, and over the top of her pubic mound, flicking her tongue out to taste Dani’s soft skin.  
  
Dani shivers, shifts, arches a little in the chair. She’s looking at Shaw right now, but glances up at the big screen every few heartbeats.  
  
She swallows heavily as Shaw licks wetly down the dip of her hipbone before sucking some skin into her mouth and tonguing over it, no teeth, just gentle and slow.  
  
She’s not really teasing, not on purpose, but she ends up pressing wet kisses to the length of Dani for a while, enjoying the way she twitches and gasps at the feel of Shaw’s mouth against her.  
  
“Looks like she’s enjoying that, Sameen,” Root’s voice is laboured and Shaw wants to look at her, to see what she’s doing, but probably she’s not allowed to stop for a viewing break so she just makes a happy noise and pushes closer, the warmth of Dani’s thighs pressed against her shoulders making her want to wriggle happily. “Does that feel good, Dani?”Root continues.  
  
“Yeah, god, it does,” Dani groans, she’s slid down in the chair so her butt’s on the very edge of it, and she keeps lifting her feet off the floor to squeeze her legs around Shaw like she wants to put her feet up somewhere.  
  
“Tell me what she’s doing for you,” Root’s definitely is touching her clit, Shaw can tell by the string of tension in her voice.  
  
She just keeps planting open mouthed kisses on Dani’s clit, her labia, her entrance, ears peeled to hear the two women discussing her.  
  
“Oh, she’s just kissing me, but it feels so good, her mouth is so hot, and shit, she’s kissing everywhere,” Dani moans, arching.  
  
“She’ll lick your ass for you, if you want,” Root grins, Shaw can hear it in her words.  
  
Dani just makes a soft little noise and Shaw pushes closer, rubs her tongue long and gentle against Dani’s slick entrance, gathering the taste of her.  
  
“Is that slow enough for you, Dani, or could you stand a little more?” Root hums it, and Shaw hopes Dani says more, hopes she gets to speed up and drag noises out of the woman pressed against her mouth.  
  
“Yeah, can she, fuck..” Dani trails off.  
  
‘What do you want, Dani? You have to tell me.” Root clearly fucking loves forcing Dani to talk past her embarrassment.  
  
“Oh, I like it when people, oh, open their mouths on me, suck my whole clit.” Dani mumbles, and when Shaw glances up she’s flushed pink and soft, her mouth open and her fingers digging dents into the arms of the chair.  
  
“Mmm sounds good. You heard her, Shaw, make her wish come true.”  
  
Shaw moans at Root’s instruction and obeys, dragging her lips over Dani’s clit and settling closer, sealing them together and sucking gently on everything available. Dani shudders and whines, and Shaw laves her tongue soft and slow over the silky skin in her mouth.  
  
“Are you gonna come in her mouth?” Root inquires, breathless, and Dani nods, curling one hand into Shaw’s hair to hold her mouth against her.  
  
“Soon, really soon,” she’s gasping and shifting her hips up for Shaw’s access, pulsing against her tongue. Shaw grins against her and keeps doing what she’s doing, until Dani curls up with a cry, flooding Shaw’s mouth with salty sweetness, getting it all over her chin.  
  
She keeps gently working Dani through it until the cop moans and squirms away, and then Shaw sits back, awkwardly wiping her face off with her cuffed hands. Either Dani is a very wet sort of person, or she squirted a bit. The armchair is soaked between her legs, the fabric stained darker by liquid.  
  
“I wish I had your mouth on me right now, Sameen,” Root groans, and it sounds like she’s close too. “Turn around.”  
  
Shaw spins somewhat awkwardly on her knees, Dani’s legs bracing her as she leans back against them.  
  
“Take the clamps off her, Dani, and Sameen, touch yourself for me. Don’t come.” Root’s voice is hard and heavy, and Shaw groans as Dani reaches over her shoulder to remove the clamps, freeing her tender nipples.  
  
When she touches herself, it drags a groan out of her, she’s slick and throbbing, desperate for a little penetration but unable to get anything like an angle with the cuffs on. On screen, Root’s got high spots of colour in her cheeks and her hand is working frantically down her underpants.  
  
“Let me hear you, babe.” Root demands, and Shaw lets the noises fall out, the groan as her thumb pushes down against the side of her clit, the gasp as her fingertips dip inside her own heat for a moment.  
  
“Fuck,” Root declares, jack-knifing on her chair and wriggling against her own hand, almost falling off her seat before she manages to slump back into the seat proper.  
  
Shaw moans agreeably, the touching herself is so awkward but so good, and Root looks so fucking sexy when she comes.  
  
“That was nice,” Root breathes out unevenly, and Dani gasps a little laugh, toying with Shaw’s hair in a way that makes Shaw’s skin itch, makes her shift away. Root sees, even through her post-orgasmic haze, because Root is omniscient, and she smiles reassuringly at Shaw. “Don’t pet her, Dani, hurt her a bit. She likes that better.” And Dani’s fingers obediently tighten in Shaw’s hair, sending a wash of pain-pleasure down her spine to pool around her fingertips. It’s much, much better, lights Shaw up, she feels it all the way into her toes.  
  
“Feeling needy, sugar?” Root drawls it, she’s all limp and heavy with pleasure, blinking slowly at the screen.  
  
Shaw nods, can’t stop her eyes from rolling back when she makes especially good contact against the side of her clit.  
  
“What would you like, Dani? You want her to get herself off like this, or do you wanna do it?” Root asks, and it’s a relief to hear that Shaw’s gonna get to come sometime soon, to be honest, she’s aching with it.  
  
“I want it,” Dani replies, and Shaw looks up at her. She’s still pink and flushed with a light sheen of sweat on her bare, brown chest.  
  
“Sameen, lover, why don’t you climb up there on Dani’s lap and let her help you. You can put your arms behind her head, and that way she can bite your nipples and finger you til you come all over her.” Shaw groans at Root’s words, unfolding somewhat awkwardly. Dani grabs her handcuffs to help her up, and the tug makes fire spark through Shaw’s nervous system. She hopes Dani’s good with her hands.  
  
It takes a minute of fumbling to get Shaw into Dani’s lap, but Dani wastes no time in following Root’s instructions, grinning wickedly at Shaw before closing white teeth around Shaw’s tender left nipple and biting down at the same time she slides two fingers into her.  
  
Shaw groans, throwing her head back and grinding her hips into the stimulation, clenching her fists for the extra spark of pain from the cuffs.  
  
Dani moans into Shaw’s tits and pulls out before sliding a third finger inside her, and Root makes a contented noise on the speakers. Shaw wishes she could see Root, but everything is still good, and she rides Dani’s fingers, grinds her clit hard against Dani’s thumb until she’s coming with a choked sound she doesn’t try to swallow as she clenches and shivers on Dani’s hand.  
  
“Good girl, Sameen, was that nice?” Root asks, sounding smug.  
  
Shaw nods, leaning down to press her face against the back of the chair, Dani’s hand on her lower back stopping her from sliding off her precarious kneel-straddle.  
  
“Tell me,” Root encourages, and Shaw makes an effort to lift her head up, twitches as Dani slips her fingers out and holds Shaw’s hip with damp digits.  
  
“It was good, I needed to come, Root,” Shaw does her best to vocalise, and Root snickers.  
  
“Better say thank you, then.”  
  
“Thank you,” Shaw obediently grunts at Dani, not strung out enough to make a thing out of it, and Dani grins, presses a kiss to her sweaty neck.  
  
“No problem.”  
  
“Cute,” Root says, in a voice that means she just means Shaw, “alright, sweetie, if you can stand up, let Dani uncuff you and grab the rope, the Rodeohs and the dick. I see you picked a pretty one.”  
  
Shaw didn’t pick the dick for appearance, more the fact that she can suck it or take it in her ass if necessary, but it is pretty, a deep, midnight blue with sparkles in it. She shrugs in response, unhooking her linked hands from behind Dani’s warm neck and awkwardly wriggling backwards. Dani helps her find her feet and then gets up, stretches and pads over to the table, grabbing a little silver key.  
  
“Give her your wrists, love,” Shaw obviously knew to do that, but she doesn’t begrudge Root the extra instruction, extra interaction, and obediently holds her hands out for Dani to uncuff her.  
  
There are pressed purple dents in the sides of her wrists, just above the rise of bone, and Dani grabs her hand before she can take it back, turns it to look and then rubs her thumb over the small injury vigorously, pulling the blood to the surface. Shaw lets her, gives her her other hand, watches Root on the screen while Dani tends unnecessarily to her ‘wounds.’  
  
Root’s grinning, and she mouths, ‘awww’, at the camera, making Shaw grin.  
  
“So, Dani tells me she’s pretty good with knots, but we’ll get you to double check her work, just in case. She’s gonna fuck you over the table for me, ankles first so you can look and then hands. Facing me.” Shaw shivers at the idea of being tied, face down on the coffee table, so she’ll see Root every time she lifts her head, and Root will have a front and side view of just what Dani’s doing to her.  
  
The cool wood scrapes her over sensitive skin when she curls herself over the table, breathing in deeply as her torso presses against the hard surface. Dani’s hands are strong and confident moving her feet, winding rope around her ankles, and when Shaw twists to check she sees an efficient quick release knot that Shaw would be able to undo herself, if necessary. She nods, and Dani grins, slaps her playfully on the butt and rounds the table to secure her wrists. She does something a bit fancier, tying lengths of rope to the top of the table legs, then hooping Shaw’s wrists to the opposite leg so she can’t slacken the bonds without crossing her arms over themselves.  
  
She tugs experimentally at the restraints and looks up at Root through her eyelashes. Root’s taken her shirt off now, her pale chest is pink just under her collarbones and her nipples look soft and inviting. Shaw wants to lick them, but they’re far away, and she resigns herself to licking her own lips instead.  
  
Dani moves up close behind her, presses her body against Shaw’s and grinds there for a second, not wearing the dick yet. “Root said I could fuck you in the ass. Would you like that?” The words drive heat out from her lower belly and Shaw moans, clenching on nothing. Yes, she’d like that. But only if certain criteria are met.  
  
“Will you touch my clit?” She asks, because that’s the most important deciding factor, and Dani cocks her head at Root on the screen.  
  
“Yeah, she’ll touch your clit, sugar. Maybe even finger fuck you after she comes inside your tight little ass.”  
  
Root seems to be much better at the degrading kind of dirty talk when she’s not literally in a room with Shaw, and Shaw likes this a lot, this side of Root where not everything dirty she says is a thinly disguised compliment. Well, it’s not not a compliment but it has a harder edge to it, like this. A different vibe.  
  
“Green, then,” Shaw tlits her hips deliberately, rubbing her ass into Dani’s lap, enjoying the scrape of pubic hair, “as long as you know what you’re doing.”  
  
“Sameen,” Root sounds faintly disapproving, combined with the look on her face...Shaw flushes with heat, head to toe pink feeling curling under her skin, “are you questioning our guest?”  
  
“Sorry,” Shaw presses her face to the wood so she doesn’t have to see anyone, the arousing sensation of sexual shame making her dizzy with want.  
  
“Are you..” Dani’s cut off by Root before she can get the question out.  
  
“What did I say about asking if she’s okay? If you’re genuinely worried, ask her what colour she is, but she’s good. She likes it, don’t you sweetheart?’”  
  
And fuck, Shaw likes it when Root gets that proprietorial tone in her voice as well, like she owns Shaw and what she says goes.  
  
“Yeah, I like it,” Shaw manages to mumble into her own arm, her cheeks hot with embarrassment and her pussy dripping.  
  
“See?” Root sounds smug. “Now glove up and fuck her in the ass before I decide to fly home and do it for you.”  
  
Dani’s fingers twitch on Shaw’s hip, but Shaw can’t see her face to try and figure out what kind of response that was. Root’s in charge of keeping everyone balanced, anyway.  
  
Dani shifts away, and Shaw pulls experimentally against her ropes, just testing how much she can move, how firmly they’ll hold her against the hard surface. She can feel the bruises forming on her hipbones already. There’s a little slack in the bonds, enough to pull away just a bit, just for a minute. When Dani’s inside her she’ll be shoved flat against the edge of the table whether she likes it or not.  
  
Soft, latex covered fingers brush against her pussy, and then suddenly something bigger that Dani’s fingers—the dick, it has to be, pushes inside her vagina. From the wink Root gives Shaw when she glances up, she assumes there was some sort of silent interplay she wasn’t parley too, but she’s clenching down on the sudden fullness regardless.  
  
Dani pats her buttcheek gently and presses her ungloved palm against the base of the dick. “Root said you liked it best when you had something else going on at the same time,” Dani murmurs as she rubs a now lubed finger over Shaw’s asshole, making her twitch and clench in anticipation.  
  
Shaw doesn’t reply, doesn’t think she needs to, but Root clears her throat pointedly so Shaw digs words up from somewhere past the teasing sensations of an unmoving dick in her pussy and soft fingers barely brushing over her asshole. “Yeah, I do. I like both.” Is that enough? She lifts her head to make eye contact with Root who grins wickedly and blows her a kiss, and then Dani’s pushing a finger into Shaw’s tight ass and she has to press her forehead to the warmed table and concentrate on breathing for a second.  
  
Dani takes her time, warming up slowly, adding another finger when Root tells her to and not before. Eventually she’s three fingers deep and dragging sparking sensation through Shaw’s spine with every thrust, little noises spilling out of her into the crook of her elbow, and Root says, “fuck her now, Dani.” And the fingers disappear, followed by the dick a moment later.  
  
Empty and needy, Shaw raises her ass in silent request that Dani not take too long, and she hears a condom wrapper rip just moments before hard silicone presses up against her. Dani puts a hand in the middle of her back, half-way between comforting and controlling, and Root says, “breathe for me, lover,” and Shaw exhales deeply as Dani pushes inside.  
  
It’s a lot, anal is always a lot, even though Root fucks Shaw in the ass fairly regularly it’s still a really intense sensation. Dani lifts her hand up too soon, doesn’t know to gentle Shaw and hold her down, leaving Shaw feeling a little untethered. She yanks on the ropes for the bite of it, to balance out the feelings, and Root has a sharp note in her voice when she says, “I told you to stroke her.”  
  
She didn’t tell her in front of Shaw, so that must have been in the previous arrangements, but Shaw shivers in relief as Dani smooths hands down her spine, presses closer and pins Shaw there with her body, letting her adjust to it. “Good girl,” Root says, and Shaw doesn’t know if she means her, or Dani, but it doesn’t matter, cause the praise sets hot and hard in her groin anyway.  
  
Dani pulls back slowly, pushes in, sparks of heat skittering down Shaw’s nerves and tangling around each other in her stomach, making her groan quietly and lift to meet Dani’s thrusts.  
  
It’s not long before Root reminds Dani, “touch her clit, officer,” the nickname doing pleasant things to Shaw’s insides, and she groans in relief as Dani finds her clit, reaching around Shaw’s hip and wedging her wrist between Shaw’s body and the table.  
  
Shaw tries to keep from crushing her arm, but Dani slips it lower so she’s not trapped anymore, and rubs tenderly at Shaw’s clit, like she’s worried about hurting her. Shaw wants to growl in frustration, so she digs her teeth into her own arm for the pain of it, and glows with the pain-pleasure of it all.  
  
A quiet buzzing makes her lift her head, and when she looks at Root she’s got her hand down her pants again, and her eyes are so sharp and dark, her teeth so white and pointed, that Shaw feels like she might climb through the screen like some sort of mythical creature come to tear Shaw’s throat out with her teeth. Root licks her teeth and Shaw clenches down, gasping, “Root,” quietly enough she doesn’t know if anyone heard it.  
  
Root read it on her lips at least though, cause she replies, “I’m here, sugar, I’ve got you. Give it up for Dani, lover, let her have you,” and the command swirls through Shaw’s bones, leaving her limp and obedient under Dani’s body.  
  
Her orgasm builds slow, corkscrewing out waves of heat through her belly until she feels like she’s choking on it, but every time she meets Root’s eyes Root shakes her head just a little, so Shaw knows not yet, not yet.  
  
On screen, Root judders out her own orgasm, clenching against the bullet she must have in her fingers, her knuckles easily outlined by the cotton of Shaw’s boxers.  
  
“Can you come like this, Dani?” Root inquires, breathless, watching them with eyes made soft by her orgasm.  
  
“Not.. not for a while. I told you,” Dani sounds a little ashamed, so Shaw makes an effort to rub back against her. “The second always takes me a long time.”  
  
“Do you wanna keep her like this until you come?” Root inquires, ignoring Shaw’s state of needy almost-climax.  
  
“I’d prefer, oh, you said she’d fuck me.” Shaw just about comes, traps it at the last possible second and begs Root with her eyes for mercy.  
  
“Yeah, I did, didn’t I. She’ll service top for you, if that’s what you’d like. You wanna lie down all soft and relaxed and have her slide a dick into you until you break all over it?” Root has her calculating voice on now, like she’s running scenarios, and Shaw can barely look at the heat on her face with how close she is. She feels like just a look could send her over, slow fingers on her clit and gentle dick in her ass nowhere near enough if it wasn’t for Root, coming all over herself just watching them.  
  
“Fuck,” Dani mutters agreeably, her thrusts speeding up a little. “Yes... please.” She adds after a second’s pause, like she thinks maybe it will tip the scale.  
  
“Okay.” Root smirks, “since you asked so nicely. Sameen, you can come for us now,” Shaw shatters around the slow, steady penetration in her ass, spasms against the soft fingers on her clit, shudders her orgasm out with her forehead pressed against the cool wood and Root’s eyes as heavy as chain over her back, moaning complaint as Dani pulls out sooner than she’d prefer.  
  
“Sorry, petal,” Root hums, clearly seeing Shaw’s shift of discomfort, not bothering to explain to Dani what the apology was for. “Dani, untie her and give her a minute, touch yourself if you like, and then she’ll set up and fuck you.”  
  
Shaw crumples against the sofa back gratefully when her wrists and ankles are released, breathing heavily and still rocking with aftershocks.  
  
Dani doesn’t take the offer to touch herself, just sits back next to Shaw and looks a bit like she wants to pet her, but Shaw doesn’t want that from her, she’s too soft and too unsure of herself at the same time.  
  
She drags herself to her feet with a groan, stumbling to the bedroom to find another pair of Rodeohs and a couple of dicks for Root or Dani to choose from. She takes a second in the privacy of the bedroom to press fingers against her clit, push the last waves of pleasure through herself and get balanced again.  
  
Two dildos in each hand, Rodeohs on, she pads back into the living room, steadier on her feet now she’s had a moment to recover. Her ass feels loose and empty, so she’s grabbed a buttplug as well, just in case Root’s feeling generous.  
  
Root’s eyes light up when she sees it, and she turns the corner of her mouth up in a soft grin, “oh yeah?”  
  
“Please.” Shaw uses her words this time, is rewarded with a flash of heat and a spark of energy that feels like it jumps through the screen and into Shaw’s clit.  
  
“Oh, sugar, you know I can’t say no to you when you beg.” This is a complete and utter lie, but Shaw knows now is not the time to point that out, but instead to take the win of being allowed a plug while she fucks Dani, so she nods and offers the dick selection to somewhere between the camera and Dani, who’s still sitting on the floor, legs splayed and Rodeohs on but dickless, she must have dealt with it while Shaw was in the other room.  
  
Since Shaw doesn’t know who’s picking, she stays quiet.  
  
“The green one, I think, unless you object, Dani?” For all Root’s dominance she’d never put something inside someone without consent, but Dani nods, looking at the dicks. The green one has a swirly icecream cone of a head and rams Shaw in the gspot so intensely she comes from penetration only in minutes if Root is of a mind to make her. Hopefully it will work out for Dani as well.  
  
Shaw drops the others off on the table for later cleanup, and ducks into the bathroom, washing the dick and the plug off quickly and then dithering. She doesn’t know if she’s allowed to put it in in here, in the bathroom with the lube kept under the sink. If Root was here she’d never consider it, but if Dani was a one night stand she’d totally do it herself at this point. Unsure, she’s been in the bathroom for too long, she decides to let Root decide, and just grabs everything, heading back into the living area.  
  
“My good girl,” Root says possessively, Shaw flushes with heat at the praise and ducks her head, toeing the carpet. “Come here and let me watch Dani put that in for you.” Oh, okay, phrased like that, centered on Root watching that becomes the best idea, and Shaw moves quickly enough that Root smirks at her on screen.  
  
“Drop ‘em, bend over, spread for her,” Root drawls, sending squirming embarrassed arousal back through Shaw in a violent rush. How does she do that? Know exactly what to say and when to make Shaw heat and clench.  
  
She does as she’s bid, not looking Dani in the eye as she hands the plug over before she pulls her Rodeohs down to her knees. She bends down to expose herself and pulls her cheeks apart without hesitation. She doesn’t want to see if Dani’s judging her for being so easy, so she closes her eyes, pressing her face into her bicep.  
  
Dani gets to her feet, Shaw feels her move, doesn’t look, and then there’s the cool touch of lube and plastic pushing against her already stretched entrance and popping home with ease. She clenches down on it, groans at the fullness and straightens, pulling her shorts back up. She chose this plug cause it has a soft, curving base that doesn’t hurt to sit down on, just in case she’s underneath, and the silicone is just the perfect amount of firm inside her.  
  
Dani pats her buttcheek, squeezes, and hands her the dick. Shaw’s still hot with shame-arousal thick in her blood, avoids all possible eye contact as she sets up, until Dani touches her shoulder gently.  
  
“Shaw, what colour are you?” She sounds concerned, and that’s enough to dampen down the embarrassment so Shaw to answer.  
  
“Green, I’m good, honest. I’ll tell you if I’m not,” she squeezes a toe fist into the carpet, thinks of Die Hard for a moment and manages to raise her gaze to meet Dani’s eyes.  
  
Dani bites her lip, looks at the camera, still tense.  
  
“She’s wonderful, just embarrassed. In a good way. It’s okay,” Root drawls, “I bet she soaked her shorts for you, didn’t you Shaw?”  
  
“Yeah,” Shaw mumbles, determinedly looking at the floor again.  
  
Root chuckles, hot and throaty, “lovely. But you’ll not come til Dani has, even if it takes all night.”

“No, that’s okay, I mean, I might not,” Dani breaks in, and Root laughs again.  
  
“If you don’t, Shaw doesn’t. She’ll cope.” Shaw quakes around the plug, her knees feeling watery and unsteady. She wants to drop to them at the tone in Root’s voice. “Now, how do you want her?”  
  
“Maybe...” Dani looks at the camera positions, the rearranged furniture. “Maybe I can ride her, sitting down, on the couch.”  
  
“Sounds good, you heard the officer, flip the sofa around.” Shaw goes to grab the end, her dick bouncing obscenely in her Rodeohs, careful to keep it from knocking into the arm of the sofa. She doesn’t need the extra stimulation.  
  
Once they have it settled to Root’s satisfaction, angled so she’ll have a front view with one camera and a side view with the other, the webcam balanced on the bookcase and pointing down, Shaw follows Root’s pointing finger and takes a seat on the couch.  
  
It feels good to relax into something soft for a minute, and she wriggles comfortably, settling her dick so the base is just above her clit. If Dani’s going to take a while, she doesn’t want to be on the edge the whole time, so she’ll pull the base away to safer territory for now.  
  
“Okay, Dani, let’s get you fucked,” Root growls it, Shaw shivers in response and obediently moves her arm out the way as Dani balances one knee on the sofa, shifts forward, takes the dick in one hand and then sinks down onto it with a slow roll of her hips.  
  
The pressure is hard against Shaw’s pubic bone and she shifts until it’s settled, Dani curls her arms around Shaw’s neck and lifts up a little, throwing her head back.  
  
“She’s good for a long ride, if that’s what you need, Dani,” Root’s voice is all silk and steel, now, and Shaw arches to the sound of her. “Or she’ll fuck you fast and dirty. Hard, soft. It’s up to you, just tell us what you want.”  
  
Dani digs her nails into Shaw’s shoulder, little pinpricks of pain sparkling down her spine, coiling around the still pressure of the buttplug filling her ass. “Oh, slow, slow is good. Easy and slow, please.”

“You heard her, Shaw, but that doesn’t mean you can’t put your back into it,” Root points out, and Shaw lifts her hips, putting effort into thrusting deep into Dani and trying to angle the dick right, so it should glance off Dani’s gspot with every movement.  
  
It’s maybe ten minutes of slow thrusting before Dani is gasping encouragement, curled forward and breathing hot and hard against Shaw’s neck. She bites down lightly every now and again, when Root reminds her, and Shaw accepts each little burst of pain gratefully, letting it trickle down and build on the slow, heavy orgasm building in the distance, waiting for Shaw to be allowed to come.  
  
Dani shudders on top of her, groans, grinding down into the base of the dick, and Shaw can feel she’s going to come soon, chooses to believe that Root has already given Shaw permission to come as soon as Dani does, and reaches down for the dick between them, adjusting it so it’s over her clit and she can ride the sparking pressure up and up.  
  
“Can I touch her clit,” Shaw gasps the question, bracing one hand on the sofa and using the other to pull Dani closer, harder onto her.  
  
“Dani, do you want Shaw to touch you?” Root drawls, and Shaw meets her eyes on the screen over Dani’s shoulder, doesn’t try to mute the spark of connection that jumps between them.  
  
“Yeah, god, feels so fucking good,” Dani mumbles, lifting her head for a second. She’s sweating freshly, the soft baby hair around her face sticking to her hot forehead, cheeks. Shaw wants to rub her face on her like a cat.  
  
She slides her hand between them carefully, gentle, touches Dani as soft as she was touching Shaw before, on the assumption that’s what Dani would like. Dani moans long and hard, jerks her hips into it, and teeters on the edge of an orgasm for what feels like forever, long enough that Shaw’s growling with the effort to hold herself back, wants to dig her teeth into Dani’s neck and drag her over.  
  
Her wrist is protesting at the angle, her clit is verging on bruised from the repeating impact, every muscle is tight and clenched and waiting and then Dani comes.  
  
She curls inwards, pulling her legs and arms in like she’s trying to climb into Shaw’s skin, and Shaw pushes up into her once, twice, thrice more and tumbles over after her, falling off the cliff of her building orgasm with a soft cry and eyes frantically searching for Root on the screen.  
  
Root’s watching her with this fixed, heavy expression, her teeth white and sharp in her lip. “Good girl,” she mouths it, rather than says it, Shaw watches the words form on her soft lips, shudders in the washing heat of another, smaller wave of pleasure and melts into the sofa back as the tension leaves her muscles.  
  
Dani slumps forwards on top of her, and Shaw grumbles, wriggling sideways until she can escape the cage of arms and legs, splay out without the weight on top of her, and Dani breathes heavily and closes her eyes as she leans back against the sofa, their shoulders just touching. Shaw can handle a shoulder brush, lets Dani shift against her side so they’re touching until Dani’s breathing is soft and easy again, and then Shaw moves away.  
  
She blinks lazily up at Root, who’s pulled her shirt back on, is fiddling with a butterfly knife for some unknown reason, the flicking light glancing off the sharp blade makes Shaw shift in a ripple of unexpected lust, making her clench on the plug again.  
  
“Well, that was hot as fuck,” Root declares cheerfully, which effectively shatters any string of tension that was beginning to lace the air, and Shaw snickers, rolling to her feet and stretching with the permission inherent in the announcement, the end of the scene made official.  
  
“Agreed,” she yawns widely, and Dani smiles up at her from the couch.  
  
“Thanks for having me,.” she hazards, soft and easy, struggling upright and casting around for her clothes.  
  
Presumably Root has already discussed what leaving should look like, cause Dani just pulls her sweats back on and gives Shaw a shy glance from under her eyelashes, “I’ll see ya around.”  
  
“Sure,” Shaw thinks probably she didn’t sound super convincing but Dani’s moving out. Besides, a few months of passing-in-the-corridor followed by a long distance threesome isn’t really grounds for regular coffee dates, and she’s too fucked out to be bothered with being overly polite.  
  
Dani just nods, gives her a half grin and lets herself out the front door, leaving Shaw surrounded by sexual detritus and with Root still eyeing her on the big screen.  
  
“You sore, love?” Root inquires as Shaw pads to the bathroom to remove the plug. She doesn’t reply until she’s rinsed off with a soft flannel, then heads back into the living area, scooping her shorts up.  
  
“Not really. Can we facetime? I wanna lie down,” Shaw continues on her way to the bedroom before Root answers, knowing there won’t be an objection, and grins when her phone starts ringing in her handful of cotton.  
  
She presses answer and props the phone up on the pillow, rummaging in the jammy drawer and coming out with a pair of Root’s shorts, some Hawaiian printed cotton kneelength-on-Shaw ones that she pulls on, flicking an eyebrow at the screen of her phone in case Root’s making her ‘I’m an asshole’ face about it.  
  
“Cute,” is all Root says in response, and Shaw hides her smirk, crawling into the bed with no shirt on.  
  
“I wish you could do your teeth without getting out of bed,” she complains, curling around the phone screen on her side.  
  
“I know, babe,” Root’s voice is soft and affectionate, sounds like being petted feels, and Shaw shivers in pleasure.  
  
“Well you’re a genius, get your computer friend to invent a no-bed-moving-toothbrush device. Like a little ball I put in my mouth that explodes and cleans my teeth and then I swallow.” Shaw says, tucking one hand under her pillow.  
  
“Explodes?” Root sounds skeptical.  
  
“A foamy mouth explosion,” Shaw nods, pleased with her idea, “it would have many applications. Camping, astronauts, getting your brain fucked into soup.”  
  
“Fun soup?” Root inquires, her tone light but almost too light, like she’s doing it on purpose, Shaw narrows her eyes.  
  
“Fun soup. You couldn’t tell I was having fun?”  
  
“It’s different when I can’t touch you,” Root sighs, cocking her head and then clambering out of her desk chair and padding over to her bed, Shaw gets swooping glances of a generic looking hotel room and Root’s laptop on the white desk.  
  
“Yeah. Good though,” Shaw yawns and stretches, “even if she was way too soft.”  
  
Root snickers, “aw, my poor babe. I’ll make sure to focus on the necessary roughness if we do this again.”  
  
Shaw nods, snuggling down, her eyelids heavy and body grateful for being on her side.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow, lover,” Root has her heart eyes voice on, and Shaw pokes her tongue out in response, without opening her eyes.  
  
“Yeah. Night, Root.”  
  
“Goodnight, Sameen.”  
  
When Shaw manages to drag her eyes open again, the screen’s dark. She puts her phone down on the side table and rolls over, dragging the duvet between her legs.  
  
  
  
  



	7. Shootiversary!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **content warning** emotions, biting, paddling, scratching, cuffs, anal, oral, going p hard 
> 
> there's a line for the smut

The mattress moves, dips. “Where’s goin’?” Root stirs sleepily, blinking her eyes open as Shaw wriggles out of the bed. When she looks, Shaw’s pulling on sweats. It’s only 8am according to the clock, and they’ve got nothing planned as far as Root’s sleepy brain can remember.

“Taking the dog down. I’ll be back.” Shaw looks back at the bed and yanks Root’s hoodie on over her jammy shirt. She dithers for a moment, and then leans down to press a kiss on the corner of Root’s mouth. It’s very unlike her, and makes Root feel infinitely more awake, like there’s something wrong.

“You okay?” She struggles onto one arm, propping herself up so she can see Shaw better.

“Yeah, I’m good. Attila needs to go out. Go back to sleep.” Root can’t hear Attila crying, but Shaw has better ears than she does, and she’s still very cozy, so she obediently flops down and burrows back into the blankets. Shaw will let her know what’s going on later, and clearly she either wants some space right now, or is distracted in some way. Root was having a nice dream though, and it doesn’t seem like Shaw needs her.  
  
She’s asleep again when the door opens, rousing her, and an unfocused and accidental glance at the clock lets her know it’s been over an hour since Shaw left the room. 

“Hey,” Shaw says quietly, setting something down on the side, “you awake? I brought coffee.”

“Mmm,” Root wriggles over and lifts her arm up  to communicate the fact that what she wants is warm Shaw back in bed with her. 

Shaw huffs a little laugh, there are some fabric noises, and then she slides into bed without a shirt on, pressing up against Root’s front and curling into her neck. “Happy anniversary,” she mumbles into Root’s neck, so quietly Root almost misses it.

“What?” Now she’s actually awake, brain jumping across dates and memories for a second, “oh!” It’s the first day they met, after Root finished working on that algorithm, a full year since the first time she saw Shaw. “Happy anniversary.” She tries to squirm back so she can kiss Shaw for being so cute and thoughtful, but Shaw seems to want to stay hidden, so after a moment Root relaxes, bringing her hand up to pet Shaw’s hair in the hopes of getting her to do the same. 

When Shaw shows no inclination to unwriggle, Root just moves her hand from Shaw’s head down to squeeze her bum, because Shaw has a nice bum and also often is easily distracted from jubbly innards with sexiness. 

Just as she hopes, Shaw untenses bit by bit as Root lazily gropes her, until eventually she’s less tucked in and Root can squirm out to reach over and grab her coffee, making sure to rub up against Shaw thoroughly as she leans over. 

After a minute or two of Root sipping quietly, leaning half against Shaw and half against the pillows, Shaw snakes an arm over to grope blindly for her own coffee, almost knocks the whole cardboard carry tray off the bedside table, and then sits up with a grumble. 

“Pastries?” Root asks as Shaw moves the brown paper bag off the tray and works her coffee out of its tight little grip.

“Yeah.” Shaw replies shortly, clearly beyond uncomfortable with her decision to make this their anniversary, but Root thinks probably the best way to get her to stop being awkward is just to pretend she’s not. 

“Gimme,” she demands, sprawling out so she can poke Shaw’s calf muscle with her toes, making her huff in exasperation before handing Root a muffin. 

They munch in the bed, dropping crumbs everywhere without really caring, cause it’s definitely laundry day anyway, and Shaw lets Root rest their thighs together under the blankets without being too weird about it. 

Once they’re done eating, there’s not really anything for Shaw to pretend she’s extremely intent on, so she settles on shifting every few seconds and darting her eyes around the room. Root does an admirable job—in her opinion—of not snickering at Shaw’s squirmies, and picks her phone up off the side table next to her, engrossing herself in checking her email and ignoring Shaw’s sideways eyes like she’s checking to see if Root is watching her. 

Eventually she shuffles over to Root’s side and props her chin on Root’s shoulder. “So.. I didn’t know... if we should have an anniversary, or whatever, but then I thought. Well. You... you make me... No.. You show me you appreciate me every single day,” Shaw sounds half like she’s rehearsed this, and half like she’s second guessing every word coming out of her mouth, “I just wanted to make sure that you know that I ... appreciate you.” 

Root grins a big, stupid grin, tries not to let too much affection shine out of her eyes. “You do. I always feel like you appreciate me.”

“Well. Good. Good then.” Shaw rolls out of bed abruptly and drops to her knees, clearly pulling something out from under it. “I got you some stuff.”

“Oooh, presents!” Root is full of silly excitement at the sheer cuteness of this entire situation, and she also doesn’t need to say something like ‘you didn’t have to’, or whatever, because obviously Shaw didn’t have to but she did anyway. Root doesn’t want to downplay that or make a big deal out of it either. 

“Yeah.” Shaw dumps a package the size of a tabletop book on the bed, followed rapidly by a plastic bag with the top folded over. “The nerd stuff is I’m taking you to that observatory you keep mentioning, but that’s next weekend.” She hops back onto the bed, full of bravado now, and taps the plastic bag, “this one is the me present, and the other one is the sex.” 

“Order preference?” Again, instead of commenting on the thoughtfulness of the nerd present, or the fact Shaw is sticking to her adorable themed present situation, Root is gonna just plow right past the thanking section ‘cause Shaw has made it clear that she’s not super into that.

“The me present, I guess.” Shaw says confidently, like she’s definitely thought about this, probably at great length.

Root hides her heart eyes and grabs the plastic bag, unfolding the end and reaching in to bring out what is instantly recognisable as Shaw’s sketchbook. A balloon swells up in her chest, and she has to blink and look away so she doesn’t accidentally tear up. 

Shaw cuts in brusquely, putting her hand on the cover before Root can open it. “So, you can look at it, but I’d rather not be here when you do. And then also I don’t wanna like, talk about any of the pictures or anything.”

“Deal,” Root tells her, smoothing her hand over the slightly battered cover. “Shaw... I...” She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say, but Shaw cuts her off anyway.

“Open the sex one. Because that’s why I bought us breakfast. So you’d have the strength in your skinny little arms to use it.”

“Oooh, intriguing. Can I guess?” Root pads her hand over the packet, aside from the postage labels it’s an unmarked cardboard box, heavier than she expected, and when she shakes it it makes a dull thunking noise.

“You’re clearly already guessing in your head,” Shaw huffs, “fine.”

“It’s a sex thing, and it’s heavy... Is it anal toys?”

“Nope,” Shaw sounds smug.

“Is it... a paddle?” Root shakes it again, it’s heavier at one end.

“Yeah.” There’s a little grin lurking at the corner of Shaw’s mouth, and Root wrinkles her nose affectionately at her before making a terrible mess of trying to rip open the cardboard package. 

Eventually she successfully reveals a wooden paddle, it’s rectangular, stained dark and has something engraved into the centre. It only takes Root half a second to see it’s her name, dug deeply into the wood, backwards from the handle side so it will leave a reflection reading ROOT on Shaw’s skin.

“My name on your ass!” She crows delightedly, picking the paddle up and weighing it in her hand, giving it a test wave through the air. 

“Exactly,” Shaw’s eyes are already hot, awkwardness gone. “So you wanna hit me with that or look at my sketchbook first?”

“Hit you,” Root leans over to kiss her, bites her lip hard making Shaw gasp into her mouth, sending a tingle of excitement through Root’s belly. “I can look at the drawings while you’re lying in a heap.”

* * *

 

“Mmm,” Shaw agrees, clearing the cardboard and scraps off the bed and shooting Root a wicked look. “How do you want me?” Her voice is low and throaty already, and Root shifts her hips unconsciously, wetting her lips and running her finger down the centre of the paddle, dipping into each groove that spells a letter of her name. 

“On your knees on the bed, over some pillows,” she decides, putting the paddle down for a second to move the sketchbook onto the bedside table before grabbing the four pillows they sleep with and piling them up. “This is gonna hurt, lover,” she singsongs as Shaw divests herself of her shorts at high speed.

“I’d be disappointed if it didn’t,” Shaw grins over her shoulder as she leans down over the pillows. 

“I take it you don’t need warming up,” Root chortles, running her hand down Shaw’s naked back and enjoying the way her muscles shift against her palm. 

“I’ve been thinking about it all morning,” Shaw admits, putting her head down onto the pillows, propped on her elbows. She slides her knees wider on the bed, lifting her ass enticingly. 

Root leans over to bite it, because what else can you do, and Shaw stiffens as she closes her teeth, they skid over taut flesh to imprison just a delicate sliver of skin, and Shaw groans deeply, shifting her hips as she tries not to pull away. 

Releasing her, Root sits back and strokes the paddle gently over the red spot she’s left, humming quietly as Shaw tenses in anticipation and then relaxes again. She teases for a few minutes, drags the corner of the rectangular wood up between Shaw’s legs, lets her grind against it a little and then brings it up to her face to sniff it, ignoring Shaw’s huffed laugh as she realises what Root’s doing.

Root starts with a fairly light tap, while she gets the weight of it, the feel of the rope-wrapped handle in her grip. Shaw makes a little impatient noise that she tries to swallow, lifting her hips again, and Root gives her second blow a little more wallop. 

Shaw exhales loudly but doesn’t cry out or pull away, and there’s a pink splotch left behind but not with any clear delineation, so Root puts her muscle into the third hit. Shaw yelps on impact, but doesn’t slide forwards, and the sound of the paddle sends heat spiralling through Root’s body, settling hot and hard in her groin. 

She touches herself briefly through her jammy shorts, just because, and then leans her free hand on Shaw’s lower back to hit her again. 

She gets a pace sorted, enough time for Shaw to rock forwards, pull back, get almost impatient waiting for the next wave of pain before it comes. The noises Shaw makes when Root hits her are intoxicating, she lets little grunts, swears under her breath, grits her teeth and strangles groans through them. Root knows exactly what face she’ll be pulling, pressed to the mattress with her teeth bared and her eyes scrunched tight shut.

Root gets one especially good impact that leaves a clear outline of her name printed on the rise of Shaw’s buttcheek, so she tries to replicate it on the other side, getting caught up in the concentration of it and losing count, until Shaw is squirming away from every impact. Root gives her two more on each cheek and puts the paddle down, rubbing her hand over Shaw’s reddened ass.

Shaw whimpers quietly as Root touches her, pushing down to cup her pussy, grinding her own hips against Shaw’s upper thigh while she does so. 

“Fuuuck,” Shaw breathes out slowly, and Root grins at the sound of her strung out voice.

“Feelin’ good, baby? Cause I could go all morning.” She teases.

“Yeah, yeah I can take it,” Shaw blurts eagerly, and Root mentally recalculates from where she was earlier—Shaw being a little cheeky and cocky, but not necessarily wanting to go hard, to clearly wanting to be  _ hurting  _ by the end of it. 

“How fit do you need to be tomorrow,” she asks, smoothing her damp palm over the sweet soft skin of Shaw’s inner thighs, pinching viciously when Shaw relaxes into the touch, making her cry out in shocked pain-pleasure.

“I’m off til Tuesday,” Shaw gasps through it, “it’s our anniversary.” 

“So it is,” Root agrees, releasing the tender flesh from the prison of her nails, “so, you don’t need to be able to walk.” 

Shaw just makes a needy noise and lifts her hips again.

Root works her over long and thorough, obscuring every print of her name—each time it’s clear brings her a moment of smug, dominant victory—with repeating blows, building up bruising under the skin that bursts and stars Shaw’s brown ass with dots of broken blood vessels. 

Shaw’s struggling to stay still by the time Root feels like they need to put a cap on the impact play, as it is, Shaw will be feeling it for a week or so, and she needs to be able to run properly by midweek.  For a weird moment, her mind skips ahead to the idea of being retired, with no pressing time commitments or planning for when Shaw needs to play a soccer game, and it makes her smile as she puts her paddle down and gentles Shaw with her hands.

She wriggles in next to the pillows so Shaw’s face is on her knee, and she can pet her hair with one hand while toying with her pussy with the other, and Shaw pants through her nose in harsh little breaths as Root explores the mess she’s made. 

“I think that present was just as much for you as it was for me,” she says playfully, dipping her thumb into Shaw’s pussy for a moment and absorbing the full body shiver that follows. “And now I’m gonna fuck you in your bruised little ass.” A pleasing memory of fucking Shaw in her bruised little face after they’d both gotten out of the hospital pops into her head, and she leans over to bite Shaw’s shoulder-blade gently, sucking some blood to the surface before releasing it with a wet pop. " But I’m in a good mood so I’ll let you choose between ‘big and vibrating’ or ‘massive and not vibrating.’” Shaw makes a very satisfying choked noise at the question, and Root kisses her back one last time before sliding off the bed. 

She stops to admire the deep red-purple bruising left on Shaw’s ass, the occasional outline of a letter standing clear pink against it. She wonders if when it settles she’ll be able to pick her name out of the mass of bruising.  “Lover?” She prods with her voice while pulling the toybox out and popping the lid. She grabs soft leather cuffs for attaching Shaw to the headboard, nipple clamps to help distract from the ass-based play, and lube, a glove and a condom, setting it all on the bed. 

“Big and vibrating,” Shaw manages to request, her voice shaking just a teeny, tiny bit. It’s not fear, obviously, Shaw doesn’t have a stroke of fear in her, especially not for this kind of thing, but Root reads it as self-control, trying not to beg maybe.

“Your wish is my command,” she says and then laughs, because that’s hilarious, and then strips off and pulls on a leather two strap quickly and efficiently. 

It only takes her a second to set up, she pulls the condom on and climbs onto the bed beside Shaw, deliberately jabbing her in the face, the neck, the shoulder, with her dick while she takes Shaw’s hands and repositions her so she’s holding onto the headboard. Once strapped in place, Shaw lets go, and gives a little tug. 

“Nips,” Root tells her commandingly, waiting for Shaw to arch obediently and make space for the clamps. She checks the tightness is at a normal, not extreme level, and then clips them on, letting Shaw lean into her as she gasps and shudders.  Root’s so turned on now she kind of wants to wriggle into the small space in front of Shaw, sit on her hands and have her eat her pussy, but she also really, really wants to shove her dick in Shaw’s ass and since she’s all set up it seems like that’s the better idea of the two. She does take a minute to run her fingers between her legs while Shaw can see, though, gathers some wetness, press against her clit and then hold her fingers up for Shaw to clean off with her mouth. 

She does, eagerly, leaning in with a small sound and wrapping her clever tongue between Root’s fingers, seeking every trace of her flavour and sucking it clear with enthusiasm. Her mouth is hot and demanding, pulling on Root’s sensitive fingers and sending lightning down her nerve endings to join the raging, demanding beat of blood in her clit. 

Reluctantly, she pulls her fingers clear, pinches Shaw’s cheek hard, just for fun, and then moves down the bed. She carefully slots herself between Shaw’s legs, letting her dick bump up against Shaw’s pussy, making her moan and shiver, before digging her nails into Shaw’s upper back and dragging down-down-down, leaving trails of sharp pink behind her fingers. She scratches her a few more times, grinding her hips slowly, enjoying the pressure of Shaw’s overheated skin against her thighs. Shaw drops her head onto her forearm, breathes in hard little puffs and pushes her ass back into Root’s body.

When she’s left some nice trails behind, Root moves back enough to slap Shaw’s tender ass, delighting in the pained yelp she lets escape and then leans over to grab the lube and a glove, “I wonder how many times I’ve fucked your tight ass this year,” she smirks as she pulls the glove on with a deliberate snapping sound that shoots through Shaw’s spine like she’s been electrocuted. “Maybe you should have twelve orgasms today, one for each month we’ve been fucking each other.” 

Shaw makes a garbled little noise as a response, and Root grins, squirting lube onto her index finger and then pushing into Shaw’s ass in a long, slow movement without any gentle touching around the entrance first. Shaw stiffens and cries out softly, a quiet little noise that lights a fire in Root’s belly, and she drags her finger in and out a few times before adding more lube and a second finger.

She’s rough with her, because she feels like it, but there’s plenty of slick and two fingers worth of warm ups will loosen her up enough to get the dick in but still really, really feel it, and Root thinks that’s on point for the day. She pulls out and discards the glove, inside out on the floor somewhere, and then adds a generous dollop of lube to her palm, rubbing it into her dick like she’s jacking herself, complete with obscene little noises as the base pushes up against her clit just right.  
  
Shaw’s breathing hard, lifting her hips off the pillows in obvious request, clearly trying to be good but not able to help herself, and Root relents pretty fast at the sight of her bruised, muscular ass practically begging to be fucked. 

They both breathe out long and hard and gasping as Root slides in, pushing against the tight resistance of muscle that’s not quite warm enough. Then, as soon as she’s seated, she clicks the battery box tucked into her waistband on and shudders herself as the vibrations roll through her. 

“You can come whenever you like, darlin’,” Root tells her, “since we’re going for gold today.” 

“Suh.. silver,” Shaw gasps, shuddering and pushing back into Root’s aggressive thrusts. “Fourteen is gold.”    


“Ah, good point,” Root grins, amused, and reaches around to thrum her fingers over Shaw’s clit. Shaw cries out loudly, Root pinches, and Shaw’s coming already, her muscles screwing unimaginably tight around Root’s dick as she thrusts her through it. 

Shaw’s on three by the time Root can’t hold off anymore, and lets her own orgasm rock through her, leaving her bracing herself on Shaw’s sweaty back with one hand and gasping for air as she clenches and clenches in long, smooth waves of pleasure. 

She pulls out slowly, unclips Shaw from the headboard, carefully takes the nipple clamps off and then divests herself of condom and dick. When she’s done, she flops down next to Shaw, still wearing her harness, “come lay on me,” she demands, and Shaw’s deep enough under that she just makes a soft, obedient noise and squirms off the pillows then crawls on top of Root. 

They lay there for a few minutes, while Root gets her breath back, and then she tugs on Shaw’s hips until Shaw crawls up over her body and Root can reach her with her mouth.

Shaw gasps as she makes contact, grabs the headboard again, pants thick and openmouthed while Root lips slowly over slick, smooth skin. Shaw whines deep in her throat, pants “oh, fuck,” when Root closes her mouth around her entrance and thrusts her tongue up into her, and starts rocking her hips forward slowly.

Root curls her fingers around Shaw’s tender ass and digs in, squeezing fistfuls of Shaw’s tender flesh until she’s shaking and making little hurting noises almost constantly as Root tongue fucks her. 

Shaw comes as soon as Root moves up to her clit, comes like she’s been shot in the back, half collapsing forwards, curling over Root’s head and shuddering against her mouth, wet and hot and soft against Root’s tongue and teeth. 

Root holds her there, relentless, drags her clit deep into her mouth and works her tongue against it until Shaw spasms again, crying out and slamming her fist into the wall as her fifth orgasm of the day overtakes her. 

She passes out a little bit, just around the edges, and Root eases her back down the bed so she can lay down for a moment, leather cuffs still wrapped around her wrist. There are faint pink lines stamped under them from Shaw’ tugging, her face is soft and dazed looking, and there are scratches leading down to the bruising still coming into focus on her ass. It’s an excellent look, and Root takes the opportunity to jerk off just admiring her. 

Shaw stirs when Root jackknifes next to her, moans softly and pushes close, mouthing against Root’s naked shoulder. She cuddles in, her hand ends up on Root’s breast, and Root moves it down deliberately, leaving it on her hip. Today is not a breast play day, for her. Shaw hums understanding, lazily kisses Root’s collarbone, and generally just continues to be extremely cute while Root recovers. 

“Five down, seven to go,” Root eventually mumbles into Shaw’s hair, and Shaw makes a neutral noise, her breathing deep and even. “Wanna nap break?” Root can feel sleep tugging at her as well, her eyelids are heavy and her words are coming out slurred and thick. 

“Mmm, napping,” Shaw mumbles into Root’s neck, and Root manages to find the energy to yank an abandoned pillow under her head before relaxing into the softness of the bed and the warmth of Shaw pressing up next to her. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got written thanks to [revolutionarydork](http://archiveofourown.org/users/revolutionarydork/pseuds/revolutionarydork) and [ onefootonego](http://archiveofourown.org/users/startingXI/pseuds/onefootonego) who have been rereading and gifting me with delicious comments as they do.


	8. Shootiversary Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up to the *** is SMUT but fairly vanilla. After the *** there's we-vibe action, triple penetration, buttplugs, a ring gag and a bj. You can skip to the line to AVOID the smut but this is mostly bangs (There's aftercare after the line though)   
> <3

Shaw wakes up on top of Root, drooling on her chest a bit, with her ass throbbing rhythmically. She makes a grumbling noise as she shifts, tensing her butt cheeks to test how deep the ache goes. It’s pretty intense, but it hasn’t stiffened up yet and the pain still feels kind of good. She can’t have been asleep for long.

Root shifts underneath her, brings her hand up  to squeeze Shaw’s hip and makes a happy noise when Shaw exhales and cocks her hips forwards without really meaning to.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Root mumbles, although arguably Shaw is already very much ‘here’ she thinks Root means to climb aboard even further, so she summons the energy to wriggle until she has a leg each side of Root’s, so she's lying flat on her chest with Root’s heartbeat thudding rhythmically under her ear. 

Root’s chest and Shaw’s cheekbone fit together nicely, she thinks, humming happily as Root folds her arms around Shaw’s hips and holds her close into the warm sleepiness of her lax body. 

Shaw’s always been a pretty comfortable person, able to squash and contort and even relax in positions that other people say give them backache just looking at her, and while a straddle-laydown isn’t the best position she’s ever been in for chilling, the way she feels inside—calm—outweighs the mild discomfort of awkward hip angles. 

A lazy hand pets her butt cheek gently, smoothing over the slight irregularities left by the letters inscribed in their new paddle, and Shaw shivers accordingly, goosebumps rising on her arms and her breathing catching.

“M’ good girl,” Root hums sleepily, squeezing so gently Shaw wouldn’t even notice if her ass wasn’t so much swollen bruising, “you’re so pretty.”

“You can’t even see me,” Shaw grumbles into Root's sternum, slowly working an arm under the pillow under Root’s head so she’s more tucked in.

“See with my body,” Root responds after a moment, lifting her hips up and tugging gently on Shaw’s upper thigh. 

“Hmph,” Shaw responds, too full of good feels to complain further, and also maybe a little bit hoping Root says some more nice things, because she’s in the sort of place where compliments roll around in her stomach and make her feel pliant and soft. 

“You’re m’ favourite,” Root mutters into her hair, and Shaw hides her smile against the soft, pale curve of Root’s breast.  

“Yeah yeah, cause I’m the best,” even Shaw can hear the ‘tell me more’ in her voice as she rocks her own hips down, feeling more awake by the moment. 

“The complete best.” Root agrees, trailing her fingers down over Shaw’s inner thigh, padding softly between bruised and unbruised territory and making Shaw’s breathing speed up with the contrasting touches. “So special, so perfect... god, you’re so perfect.” 

Shaw lets out a little, airy gasp when Root’s hand curls lower, brushes across her labia. Her stomach feels like it's full of sparkles. 

“Mine, my darlin’,” Root drawls, clearly more awake, running her other hand down to cup Shaw’s ass cheek while she pushes into the warm, tight space between Shaw’s thighs.  Shaw can only manage a garbled noise and to pull her knees up so Root has better access. 

Root plays for a while, teasing until Shaw’s got her forehead pressed against Root’s cheek and is breathing in little, irregular gasps of neediness. Then Root drags her fingertips gently over Shaw’s bruised skin and around her hip, pushing until Shaw lifts up enough for Root to get her hand between them. 

“That’s right, sweetheart, let me have you. Give it over for me...” Root pushes down on her clit gently, and it’s fire, bursting through Shaw’s veins. Fingers dig into the curve of Shaw’s ass just enough that the pain sings out, coiling around the rising heat, and Root encourages the shifts of Shaw’s hips with her own, until Shaw tumbles head first into a soft, pillowy orgasm that makes her bite down on the meat of Root’s shoulder, gasping her name out. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got you,” Root holds on to her, excitement and pleasure thickening her voice to treacle that drips down Shaw’s spine, “that’s right, my love,” it doesn’t even feel that weird when Root calls her that anymore, not that it’s a regular occurrence, mostly just when Shaw is a complete mess. The words don’t make Shaw itch and want to escape, for some reason. It mostly just feels good to Shaw, now, as long as she doesn't think about it too deeply. 

She whines as Root dips further, wedges her palm against Shaw’s still pulsing clit and drags her fingertips over Shaw’s twitching entrance. “One more for me, my darlin’,” Root tells her, just as she pushes inside. Shaw shudders, every fibre of her body straining to obey. She pushes herself up off the pillow so she can ride the penetration a little, brace herself on Root’s sternum and thrust into her touch until she unravels again, jerking gracelessly with an orgasm that seems to reverberate through every bone in her body. Eventually, she flops sideways, unable to hold herself up at all anymore. She's surprised to find she's not plastered to the ceiling but is flat on the bed.

Root leans over her, props herself up on one elbow and keeps toying with Shaw's pussy as she comes down, hovering over Shaw with the weighted, fascinated expression she gets sometimes. 

“S’too close,” Shaw complains, pushing weakly at her shoulder until she pulls back, so Shaw can close her eyes without feeling like Root is trying to absorb every instance of her facial expressions. Root kisses her full on her half open mouth, like she wants more. But Shaw needs a second, flaps at her until she lays back down again. Breathing heavily, Shaw slowly stops shuddering with little aftershocks, her stomach muscles relaxing. Root isn’t as close now, but Shaw can feel her smirking, so she grumbles her way onto her side to bite at her mouth until she stops.

Root gasps into the kiss when Shaw fastens teeth on her lips, and her fingers dig into Shaw’s side warningly. Shaw grunts approval and licks at Root’s teeth until Root arches against her, Shaw can feel her soft wetness against her thigh muscle, and she does her best to give Root good contact for grinding on.

With a groan of appreciation, Root bullies Shaw backwards, flat onto the bed, sending shocking waves of heat-pain through her as her bruised ass hits the mattress, and then swinging a leg over Shaw’s so she can ride her thigh.

Shaw moans, blinking at the ceiling, and opens her legs for Root, wrapping her ankle over Root’s calf and lifting her hips up, getting slick friction against her own pussy even as Root frantically rocks her hips into Shaw’s body.

Root comes slowly, climbing the mountain long and drawn out. Her face flickers through a range of expressions as she jerks her pussy against Shaw’s thigh muscle and tremors on top of her. Shaw is gasping, close, the way pleasure washes over Root’s expressive face sending twisting wires of demanding desire through her stomach, yanking on her muscles and making her clench and ache. 

“Oh, oh fuck,” Shaw moans, trying to communicate that she’s almost there, and Root groans out Shaw’s name and digs teeth into her neck, sucking on her pulse point in hot, wet yanks that pull Shaw’s orgasm to the surface and let it overtake her. 

They collapse together, gasping, and Root licks over the bruised spot Shaw can feel sting-throbbing on her throat before groaning out, “is that eight? I lost count.” 

“Yeah, eight I think,” Shaw garbles the words, flopping her hand over her face, “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Mmm, I can,” Root mouths it into her neck, stroking her hand proprietorially down Shaw’s thigh, “strong and hard and good for riding.” 

Shaw giggle-snorts, because Root is honestly ridiculous sometimes, and flops her hand feebly against Root’s back. Then her stomach rumbles loudly, demandingly, and Root snickers, moving her hand up to pet the outline of Shaw’s stomach muscles. “Someone needs feeding,” she hums it.

Shaw makes a complaining noise, because that sounds hard and terrible and far too much like moving around, but Root gropes off blindly to the side and comes back with her phone. She orders takeaway from their local Chinese place, and grins up at Shaw, “I’ll get you a snack bar, and then we have half an hour to get four more orgasms out of you.” 

“Shit,” Shaw half laughs it, feeling pretty slap happy and floppy, all things considered. 

***

“Oh my fucking ngrgggg,” Shaw loses the words into some garbled noises as Root slides a vibrantly pink U shaped toy into her rapidly approaching-overworked pussy. The other half of the vibrator presses firmly up against her clit, and even now, turned off, the stimulation is a  _ lot  _ for how sensitive Shaw is. 

Root just kisses her patronisingly on the forehead, clicks the vibration on and catches Shaw before she can fall. Root holds her, stroking her back soothingly for a minute until Shaw has her balance and then shifts off the floor where she’s positioned Shaw on her knees, heading back to the sex toy box.

Shaw leans forward to press her face against the mattress and breathe through the buzzing sensations. Root has it set on pretty low, but her phone’s close enough Shaw’s sure that’s gonna change, and when Root settles down behind Shaw, also on her knees, and runs something hard and slick teasingly over Shaw’s asshole, Shaw just about comes from the anticipation. 

Root snickers, presses a kiss to a her shoulder, and pushes the toy in slowly. When it’s seated, popped past the ring of muscle in a wave of sensation that leaves Shaw gasping, clenching down and  _ almost,  _ Root reaches around her to tug on her tender nipples. “Come on, love, don’t you want to get one out the way before I shove my dick down your throat,” she says sweetly, rocking her hips against Shaw’s sore ass, and Shaw comes with a violent shudder, clenching down on the vibrating toy inside her, and the thick plug in her ass.

“How Pavlovian,” Root sounds highly entertained, but Shaw’s too busy shaking through her orgasm, trying to sort the sensations out and process the fact that it’s just going to keep vibrating, keep this level of stimulation up, to roll her eyes.

She gets a minute alone, overstimulated and strung out, biting down on the blankets, before Root comes back and tugs on her hair, none too gently.

The shock of pain helps Shaw sort through the sensations, until she’s not actually coming anymore just like... about to, teetering. She groans gratefully, leaning into Root’s hand and then pulling away slightly until Root tightens her fist further in response and pulls Shaw’s face clear of the mattress. 

She looks at Shaw’s clenched teeth with a smirk. “Do I need a ring gag?” And Shaw, jerking and shaking, nods frantically, relief flooding her. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to keep her teeth clear of Root’s dick, and having that taken out of her hands sounds amazing, to be honest. 

Root looks at her for a moment, soft with affection, but her hand tight enough in Shaw’s hair that it doesn’t matter, and then smiles a big, beaming smile that has hard edges in the best possible way.

She runs her thumb over Shaw’s lip like she’s thinking and then gets to her feet, letting Shaw’s head fall back to the mattress. Shaw digs her nails into her thighs, sits down harder on her bruised backside and uses the pain to put reins over the pleasure, the intensity of it all. 

Root’s back in just a moment, and she urges Shaw’s head up, sits down on the edge of the mattress with the medium dildo that matches her pale skintone bobbing obscenely in her rodeohs. “Open wide, sweet girl,” she has that teasing, overly saccharine note in her voice she gets sometimes when Shaw is a complete wreck and she’s feeling especially obnoxious about it, and Shaw closes her eyes as she opens her mouth. 

The ring gag is hard rubber with almost no give in it. It slots behind Shaw’s teeth and props her mouth open uncomfortably far, but it’s such a relief to just relax into it, to work the strength of her jaw against something, that Shaw sighs in pleasure as Root buckles it and gives it a possessive tug. 

“There we go,” she runs her thumb down the edge of Shaw’s stretched open lip, pushes against the very corner of her mouth. “Now it’s a tight fit, so once I’m in, I’m in to stay.” She doesn’t ask if Shaw’s okay, or ready, and Shaw quakes with heat, tilting her chin up expectantly. 

Root curls her fingers around the back of Shaw’s head, drags the head of her dick over Shaw’s lower lip and dips in for a second but not deep enough to push at the ring, just looking, Shaw assumes. Watching. She flicks her tongue out to lap at the soft-hard silicone, waiting for Root to tug her forward, trying to relax on the still ceaselessly vibrating toy inside her. At this point, the plug in her ass feels huge, violent, every millimetre of skin oversensitive and overloaded. 

“Three to go,” Root murmurs, clearly distracted, and pushes into Shaw’s mouth. 

The dick hits the back of her palette, makes her gag, but Root just thrusts deeper, doesn’t even give her a chance to settle, just demands she deal with it, and somehow Shaw does, breathing in flat little pants out of her nose and swallowing violently on the invasive dick down her throat to try and get control over her gag reflex. 

“Mmm,” Root tells her, approvingly making Shaw moans at the praise around the silicone dragging over her tongue as she tries to push closer. 

Root ratchets the vibrator up with her phone and Shaw shatters apart for the ninth time, losing focus on everything that’s happening, just bracing her hands on the side of the mattress and letting Root fuck down her throat as she comes and comes and comes. 

She only knows she’s reached twelve because the vibrations stop, and Root’s gentle fingers are unbuckling the gag, easing the dick and the ring out at the same time. Shaw’s face is wet with tears and spit, her whole body is full of sparkling thick and heavy pleasure, so she just kind of curls up forward onto the side of the mattress and waits for Root to take care of her. 

She fuzzes back in in the bed, laid out flat on her front, nothing more inside her, and the room is dark and quiet. “Root.” Her voice is raspy and hoarse, but she’s alone, and where is Root?

“Right here, lover,” Root tells her, from just inches away, but far enough that Shaw isn’t touching her anywhere, somehow, and that’s unacceptable. Root’s already shifting closer, though, props her leg against Shaw’s side and Shaw fades out again. 

* * *

When she wakes up next, it’s because Root is rubbing cooling cream into her heated, tender asscheeks.

“Sorry babe, I didn’t want to let it sit any longer,” she whispers, when Shaw makes a complaining noise. Root’s a bear for arnica, and Shaw knows aftercare isn’t just for her, so she grumbles agreement and shifts off her side a bit so Root can reach.

There’s a soft smile in Root’s voice when she comes back into the bed and strokes Shaw’s back comfortingly with a slightly tacky hand, “you need anything?”

Urgh, “ice, maybe?” Shaw’s disgusted at the very thought of it, but the light touch of Root spreading cream over her skin has reawakened the buzzing, angry throbbing of deep bruising, and she’ll regret it tomorrow if she doesn’t.

“You got it,” Root kisses her shoulderblade and disappears from Shaw’s immediate space. She hasn’t managed to open her eyes yet. 

Root’s return pulls Shaw back into the room where she’s been hazing, and she gasps as Root lays a frozen towel down across her ass. It’s softer, lighter than the big icepacks, and Shaw appreciates the fact that Root must have put it in when the food arrived, planning ahead. 

“Thanks,” she mutters, kicking out gracelessly so she can press her foot against some part of Root that isn’t easily identified. On the other side of Root, Atilla wuffs comfortingly.

“Welcome,” Root tells her, soft and quiet and happy sounding, and Shaw smiles into her pillow.

“Whatcha doing?” She inquires, too floppy to emerge but awake enough to engage.

“Just reading,” Root tells her, “you’ve been out for an hour.”

“Anything good?” Shaw mumbles.

“Nothing special,” Root answers, which means she’s probably read a hundred different articles and is accidentally researching some obscure scientific discovery. 

“Movie?” Shaw manages to squirm sideways so she can lay her head on Root’s thigh.

Root just clicks the TV on in answer, buzzing through their list and quietly reading out options. They settle on Freaky Friday, and Root feeds Shaw bits of cold Chinese food in the dark. 

***

After the movie, which Root will admit she spent most of shamelessly admiring Shaw through, she can’t repress the urge to look at the sketchbook any longer. 

“Sweetheart, do you mind if I go in the other room and look at my present?” She asks, fiddling idly with the tangled ends of Shaw’s long hair.

“Urgh, I guess,” Shaw huffs in the way that means yeah it’s fine, and Root grins, sliding off the bed and stretching the ache out of her lower back. Atilla noses her leg and she rolls her eyes affectionately and pats the bed next to Shaw. Attila jumps up with a whuff and settles down on her side. Shaw flops her hand out to pet the pups with a little smile tugging on her mouth, and Root leans down to kiss her.

“Shout if you need anything,” she tells Shaw before scooping the sketchbook up off the sidetable and padding into the living area, leaving the door open. The dulcet sounds of gunfire follow her out of the bedroom as Shaw clearly selects some random violence to amuse her while Root is gone.

The sketchbook cover is worn and battered, has ‘S.S’ scribbled on the top right corner in whiteout. Root runs her fingers over the letters. She wonders if Shaw has always written her initials on her sketchbooks, if there’s a trail of them leading back to Shaw’s childhood and clumsy drawings. It makes her smile, imagining small Shaw with an open A3 book in her lap.

The first page is blank except for a smudge down the side, and Root flicks past it, opening the first double page. It’s a set of sketches of Bear, in different positions, quick sketches with very little detail, more just physicality and positioning. On the opposite side there’s a more detailed study, Bear asleep with his head on someone’s leg. Maybe John’s, by the size of it, the fabric of jeans developed near the place that it touches Bear, and fading to nothing an inch away.

Apart from the heavily featured Bear, it’s mostly people. Some Root recognises, some not. There are also a few abstract images that Root can’t make sense of, seeing faces and hands blurring together, melting and contorting. There are multiple sketches of all of the Team, mostly bit pieces, hands or bodies, like Shaw is practising her lines for people’s positions. 

About half way through, there’s a picture of Root. 

She’s carrying her bookbag and walking down one of the campus paths, it’s specific enough that Root can identify everything she’s wearing in the picture. She smiles, running her finger gently down the side of the picture. 

There are more pictures of Root from then on, after that first one. Even scraps her that she recognises, her hand with the scar over the middle knuckle from breaking a mirror with her fist when she was a teenager. A snippet of the corner of her mouth. Her torso, from the back, her spine carefully shaded like beads down her back. One at her house, eating an apple and looking out over the top of it with an expression that makes Root gasp, to see the power Shaw’s given her reflection. Then they get to vacation time, and images of stuff she recognises from their trip start to dominate, cathedrals and churches, old signs for pubs. Shaw really is quite talented, replicating things and textures, reflections and different materials with confidence and precision. 

When Root closes the book, she feels... like Shaw has handed over something important. She sits for a little while, with the book in her lap, hands flat on the cover, just thinking about how much her world has changed in one, short year. She feels a bit like she might cry, not in a sad way, more like there’s just so much emotion going on inside that it wants to come out, so she busies herself tidying up while some slow tears work their way out of her eyes, leaving little splashes on the couch when she bends over to pick up a discarded magazine. 

After a while, she feels like she’s done working through the emotional reaction of an intense day, she carefully puts the sketchbook on the bookshelf where she can take it down whenever she likes, but it’s out of the way, and pads back into the bedroom.

Shaw’s flat on her belly, arm flung over Attila, snoring quietly into the puppy’s neck while the TV plays an episode of Chopped. 

Root wriggles in at Shaw’s side, and curls her hand around Shaw’s flank, feeling the sway of her breathing and calming hers to match. 


	9. Seven Wonders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get too excited, I just woke up with this in my head and had time to write it, IDK if it means I am writing these kids again in general, or if it was just for today. I'm still dying of school, I'm just on spring break right now :) Anyway, that's the disclaimer. I hope you enjoy it, even though it's short and silly. 
> 
> content warning: anal and soppiness under the ***

“Honeys, we’re homeeee,” Zoe warbles as she pushes open the door to her apartment. Behind her, Shaw rolls her eyes, even though no one can see her. As soon as Zoe is out of the way, Shaw stomps into the kitchen and dumps her heavy bags on the concrete countertops. 

“Thanks, Shaw,” Joss flashes her a grin over her shoulder, flour smudged on one cheek and a twinkle in her eye while she stirs a delicious smelling pan. 

Shaw grunts in response and starts unpacking the booze and snacks she’d been sent out for after losing rock paper scissors to Root, who is sprawled in epic looking comfort on the big corner couch, with Atilla sleeping on her feet. Shaw considers whistling to wake the puppy up and get her to abandon Root, but then decides it’s not worth it. 

Zoe sorts chips into bowls because her and Joss are way fancier than they used to be, now they have their own place, and Shaw finishes stowing the beer in the fridge, grabbing one for now. Root and Joss have wine already, so she doesn’t bother offering beverages around. 

The boys aren’t joining them tonight, because they’re in Portland on some winery tour being pretentious, but Shaw is happy to eat Joss’ cooking in almost any company. Root shifts her arm to make room for Shaw to flop down next to her, and Shaw glances at the muted TV as she wriggles her toes under Atilla’s head without waking her up. 

“What garbage is this?” She inquires lazily, sipping some delicious craft IPA. 

“It’s a competition to find the most valuable things at yard sales, and it’s amazing.” Root grins at her, “they’re all terrible.” 

“Right that just needs twenty minutes in the oven,” Joss joins them in the living room, with Zoe on her heels. Zoe takes the end of the couch on the other side of Root—who is snug in the corner still—and Joss curls into the classic Ikea chair with her feet up on the matching footstool. 

“Love your plant pot holder, by the way,” Root tells Joss as she sits down, “that was what Caleb got you, right?”

“Yep!” Joss glows with pleasure, “it’s made by a local carpenter, Caleb snuck her in while I was at training, isn’t she great?”

It is pretty great, even Shaw has to admit. It’s all curving pale wood with hollows carefully supporting white ceramic pots in varying sizes, all hand thrown by the looks of them. Joss’ carefully curated collection of plants looks completely at home in it, and the graceful structure doesn’t block out the fading sunset light from the big windows. It’s like a piece of nature in the minimalist living space, and Caleb clearly thought about it extensively.

“S’good,” she agrees, dangling her beer bottle off the couch in front of her, the glass cool between her fingers. “He has good taste.”   
  
“Aw, thanks Shaw,” Joss snickers, and Shaw rolls her eyes. She didn’t mean it like that. 

“God knows why he’s dating you, though,” she smirks. Zoe kicks her gently in the stomach, and Shaw grabs her foot on the retreat, tickling Zoe’s arch until she shrieks. 

Root also shrieks, because she’s between them, and Joss just watches with amusement in her eyes as Shaw half climbs over Root to finish tickling Zoe into submission. Root pinches the inside of her thigh at an angle that probably isn’t visible to everyone, and Shaw yelps, recoiling back into her seat and frowning at Root indignantly.

Root just snickers, “smells amazing,” she tells Joss with a shit-eating grin.

“Hopefully,” Joss sips her wine delicately, “it’s a family recipe.”

“How come you’ve never cooked it for me before?” Shaw complains. She saw parmesan cheese, asparagus, chicken  _ and _ potatoes and she loves ALL those things.

“John hates sundried tomatoes, remember?” Joss responds, pulling a colourful blanket over her knees even though it’s warm and cozy in the apartment. 

“Urgh, John ruins everything.” Shaw wrinkles her face up in disgust, and Root laughs at her.

“You look like a wizened little tomato yourself when you do that.” 

“More like a masturbating cherub,” Zoe pulls the hideous cherub face and pretends to jerk a teeny tiny dick in her lap.

“You should have taken a picture to send to dickpiccers,” Shaw takes a lazy gulp of beer, it’s from a new brewery that’s just opened a few blocks from Joe’s house and it’s pretty good. They got a mixed box so she’s planning on trying everything except their stout, because stout makes her feel full and grumpy.

“Great idea!” Zoe sounds delighted.

“She’s been doing the murder dolls and that’s been going well,” Joss turns the volume on the tv down a little, reducing the frantic swearing of yard salers to background fuzz.

“Nice, what do people say?” Root inquires.

“Uh, a bunch of different things, I’m cataloguing them. I’m basically doing an unrequited PhD in tormenting disgusting men,” Zoe leans forward to grab her laptop off the table, can’t reach it, and makes a sad face, “I’d show you but it’s impossible.”

Shaw doesn’t want to encourage that kind of behaviour, but she definitely does want to see dickpic reactions to murderdolls, so she growls and leans over, grabs the laptop and passes it to Root who passes it to Zoe.

Zoe boots it up and the tv screen changes to her desktop wallpaper, which is currently a picture of the Loch Ness monster for some reason. She pulls a google cells document over to the display and waggles the mouse pointer at various parts while explaining.

“I have them split by violent, offended and amused, with subcategories for what kind of response they send. So far, the most common response is complete shock and indignation, which comes as a subset of offended. About twenty percent of respondents ask me why I would send something that horrible, to which I am currently replying ‘you sent me a horrible picture so I thought that’s what we were doing’, to see what happens next.”

“This is quite impressive, Zo,” Root has obviously read everything on the screen in the time it took Shaw to read the title categories. “You should publish your findings”

“Maybe I’ll write a book.” Zoe finishes her wine and puts the glass down on the floor in a dangerous place so Joss has to lean down, pick it up and move it. “101 dickpics and drama.”

“Yeah just post your entire conversations if they’re funny. Maybe not the death threats and stuff, though.” Root grins. “I’d buy it.”

“I’d read it if Root bought it,” Shaw offers, and Joss giggles.

“I don’t know how you managed to make that sound dirty,” she gets to her feet, discarding her bright quilt on the chair, “but it’s dinner time.” 

“It’s a gift,” Root replies for Shaw, sliding out of her couch and padding over to help Joss in the kitchen.

They eat at the breakfast bar, Shaw stands at the end instead of squashing in on the side, and the Tuscan chicken is delicious and filling. The beer is good, and the company’s even better.

After dinner, and a couple of games, Root and Shaw grab a cab back to their place.

 

***

“God, Sameen, your ass is a miracle,” Root mumbles it into Shaw’s hair where she’s pressed on top of Shaw, body to body, still deep inside Shaw. Her arms are crossed under Shaw’s chest, and it should feel uncomfortable, claustrophobic, should make Shaw want to squirm away, but it doesn’t. It feels good to have the weight on her, holding her down. Shaw feels light and drifty, like she might hit the ceiling if Root doesn’t weigh her down. An anchor. 

Root shifts her hips a little, barely a movement at all, but it sparks thick, hot sensation through Shaw’s body, making her clench tight and solid around the dick in her ass. She groans in either complaint or pleasure, she’s not quite sure, and then Root’s hand is on her hip, pulling gently in a way that Shaw recognises. 

Rolling sideways is a singing, rolling mass of feeling, and Shaw’s curled up tight, breathing hot little pants into her hands, clenched in front of her face by the time they’re settled. Root’s hand burning gently on her stomach muscles, feeling her breath, pressing a pattern for her. 

“It’s one of the seven wonders of my life,” Root murmurs, sounding very pleased with herself and quite slurry, and Shaw likes the way her breath hits the back of Shaw’s neck, the space behind her ear. Root presses a kiss to her skin, wet and soft and satisfied. “Your tight ass,” She rolls her hips gently, making Shaw shudder and heave, but not protest. “Your strong body,” runs her fingers across Shaw’s hip, to grab a handful of her thigh and squeeze. Not hard, but not gently, either. “Your clever hands,” she drags her hand up Shaw’s flank, sending sparks through Shaw’s skin, curls her fingers around Shaw’s in front of her mouth. Shaw lips at Root’s knuckles, weak for the kind of compliments Root gives when she’s heavy with pleasure. “Your quick mind,” kiss pressed to the back of Shaw’s head, and Root takes a big sniff of Shaw’s hair while she’s there, because she’s a weird little freak. Shaw pushes her hips back into Root, shivers as the dick drags and shifts inside her, lighting her up all over again. “Your little elf ears,” lips on her earlobe, tingles down her spine. “Your brilliant mouth,” Root drags the back of her knuckles over Shaw’s lip until she lets Root slide inside, press against her tongue. Root’s hips are rolling slowly now, like water, like waves Shaw can ride up and up again. 

They shift against each other, Shaw reaches up to grab the headboard for leverage and Root holds her wrist with one hand, flattens the other against Shaw’s breastbone, keeping her in a spoon-cage, a body bind, Shaw arcs and leans her head back against Root, waiting for teeth in her nape that never come, just scrape gentle and soft and careful over her neck. “Your brave heart,” Root whispers to her, licks her jugular, and presses hard against her chest. Shaw comes slowly, so slowly she’s not even really sure where it starts, just that she’s unravelling again, shaking and soft and melting, melting into Root’s body while Root rocks her slowly though it. 

“So good,” Root tells her, gentling Shaw with her hands and voice, holding Shaw’s body cradled and still against her thin chest. “I’ve got you.”

“Mphrgle,” Shaw tells her, which means good and thanks and very nice excellent well done go team, and Root laughs into her hair. 

“You just came when I called you BraveHeart,” Root snickers quietly, still holding Shaw close, and the laughter echoes against Shaw’s ribs and fills her up with a sloping, slippery kind of warmth. 

“You can take my pants, but you’ll never take my freedom,” Shaw mumbles into her own hands, trying to squirm forwards so Root will pull out.

She obliges, gently, rustles and thumps around for a second and then presses back up against Shaw, no dick, no harness, just skin. 

“Wouldn’t ever try,” she mumbles into Shaw’s hair before pulling the sheet up over them both. 


End file.
